COLUMBIA  LIBRARIES  OFFSITE 

AVERY  FINE  ARTS  RESTRICTED 

11111 

AR01 402226 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2013 


http://archive.org/details/chipboyofdrydockOOcant 


PRICE    THIRTY    CENTS. 


THE 


CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK 


S  A.  Al  X'  E  L     C  A  NTT, 


thought  after  thought  !-u»,ceeded  each  other  in  my  brain,  I  was  rn'ived  by  the  appearance 
<>i  a  little  Chip-boy  whom  I  saw  coming  towards  me,  with  a  basket-full  of  chips  upon  his  back;  so 
>  sorrowful,  care-worn,  and  dejected  was  his  look,  that  it  even  moved  that  adamantine 
substance  composing  my  heart. — See  page  9. 


32  r m  f  nrk: 
PRINTED   AND   PUBLISHED   FOR  THE   AUTHOR. 


W.  H.  Tfveow,  Prmt«r  tnA  Strrentyj^r,  C4  B«»km»n  ftrwt,  N.  Y. 


iEx  ICtbrtB 


SEYMOUR    DURST 


"V  ~Tort  nt&tiw    ^dm/larda™,  oj>  Je  Manhatarus 


When  you  leave,  please  leave  this  book 

Because  it  has  been  said 
"Ever'thing  comes  t'  him  who  waits 

Except  a  loaned  book." 


Avery  Architectural  and  Fine  Arts  Library 
en  i  oi  Seymour  B.  Durst Oi  n  York  Library 


THE 


CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DM  DOCK. 


3  Inrnl  3Hnrd  itnnj 


BY 


SAMUEL     C^NTY, 

A   MECHANIC   OF   NEW  YORK   CITY. 


N  B  W    Y  0  II  K  : 
PRINTED   AND   PUBLISHED   FOE   THE   AUTHOR. 

1855. 


.C$7 


according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1S55,  by 

SAMUEL    CANTY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


W.  H.  TDJSON,  STEREOTTPEB,  24  BEEKMAN  ST.,  N.  Y. 


TO   WORKINGMEN    IN    GENERAL 


It  is  with  deep  respect  that  I  inscribe  this  work  to  you  as  a  co-laborer,  hoping 
that  through  my  poor  exertions  you  may  be  enabled  to  while  away  an  evening 
amid  your  families,  thus  seeking  a  relaxation  from  the  busy  turmoil  of  your  daily 
toil,  with  your  little  ones  and  friends  clustered  around  you,  reading  to  them  the 
story  of  the  Chip  Boy.  Should  I  succeed  in  lightening  for  a  brief  hour  the  cares 
and  heart-burnings  attendant  on  the  precarious  lives  of  my  fellow  workmen,  my 
object  will  be  attained. 

THE   AUTHOR. 


PREFACE 


In  placing  before  the  public  the  following  work,  I  have  a  Strong 
desire  to  point  out  the  misuse  and  abuses  applied  to  the  word  Charity. 
It  appears  to  have  lost  its  meaning,  and  remains  but  an  empty  title,  to 
be  used  by  designing  men  for  speculation.  The  idea  of  a  man  standing 
up  in  a  public  meeting,  and  proclaiming  with  a  loud  voice  a  donation 
of  fifty  or  a  hundred  dollars  to  relieve  the  suffering  poor,  is  laughable  ; 
when,  at  the  same  time,  he  is  buying  up  produce,  bringing  a  scarcity 
of  an  article  in  the  market,  thereby  raising  the  prices,  to  increase  his 
worldly  riches,  which  places  it  beyond  the  poor  man's  means  to 
purchase,  and  causes  thousands  to  suffer  in  this  land  of  freedom,  where 
there  is  plenty  for  all  ;  or,  for  years  hoarding  up  his  gold,  deaf 
to  the  cries  of  misery  surrounding  him,  when,  finding  himself  fast 
approaching  the  grave,  he  will  give  large  donations  to  various  institu- 
tions, or  found  some  splendid  edifice,  that  it  may  be  called  by  his 
name.  What  empty  honor  !  How  much  more  good  would  his  money 
have  done  in  relieving  suffering  humanity,  and  realizing  during  his  life 
the  only  blessing  worth  living  for — that  of  the  grateful  prayers  of  the 
poor.  With  this  short  preface,  I  send  my  story  before  the  public,  to 
be  judged  of  by  them  as  to  its  truthfulness. 

The  Author. 


THE  CHIP  BOY 


OF 


THE     DRY     DOCK! 


CHAPTER    I. 

Residing  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Dry  Dock,  my  attention  has  ofttimes 
been  called  to  those  little  ragged  specimens  of  humanity,  termed  Chip 
Boys.  These  little  fellows  can  be  met  morning-,  noon,  and  evening 
with  torn  and  ragged  clothing,  shoeless,  and,  in  many  cases,  hatless, 
vending  their  stock  in  trade,  with  their  usual  cry  of,  "  Here's  your  pitch 
pine  chips  !"  bearing  a  basket  containing  pine  wood,  which  they  purchase 
from  the  different  ship-yards  at  half  price  ;  this  sum  falls  to  the  share  of 
the  workmen,  which  they  term  chip-money.  Many  a  silk  dress  worn 
by  thegayly  dressed  ladies,  seen  perambulating  the  streets,  is  purchased 
with  the  money  thus  obtained  by  their  husbands,  who  are  employed  in 
the  different  ship-yards.  I  have  seen  very  small  boys  with  a  basket  of 
wood  strapped  to  their  backs,  of  such  enormous  weight,  that  their  weak 
frames  would  totter  under  the  load.  Walking  one  day  in  the  early 
part  of  December,  in  the  year  1853,  the  weather  being  somewhat  cold, 
I  met  several  of  the  before-mentioned  little  gentry,  who  exhibited  much 
suffering  from  the  effects  of  the  weather.  I  observed  their  destitute 
appearance  ;  and,  accompanying  one  of  them  to  his  home,  a  picture  of 
wretchedness  met  my  view  beyond  description.  There  I  beheld  a  damp, 
carpetless  floor,  a  couple  of  chairs  with  no  backs,  a  fire-place  without  any 
fire,  a  rudely  constructed  shelf,  adorned  with  a  bowl,  a  tea-pot  without  a 
handle,  a  cracked  cup,  some  two  or  three  plates  of  the  commonest  kind  ; 
a  bench  stood  at  the  farthest  end  of  the  room,  which  served  them  for  a 
table,  when  they  happened  to  have  anything  to  eat  ;  in  one  corner  there 


8  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  ■  DRY  DOCK. 

was  a  pile  of  shavings,  covered  with  a  torn  sheet,  which  had  once  been 
white  ;  but,  by  the  appearance  of  it,  the  white  had  all  washed 
out. 

As  I  entered,  I  beheld  an  object  which  once  boasted  of  being  called 
a  woman,  but  which  was  so  deformed  by  dissipation,  that  it  would 
puzzle  any  quick-sighted  man  with  the  best  of  optics,  aided  even  by 
the  telescope  (which  is  generally  seen  by  the  hospital  wall),  to  tell 
what  it  was,  lying  at  full  length  upon  the  bed  ;  beside  her  was  seated 
a  man,  in  the  act  of  drinking  something  from  a  bottle.  I  paused  upon 
the  door-step,  aud  seizing  the  boy  by  the  arm,  I  held  him  motionless, 
while  I  gazed  at  the  scene  within. 

Before  the  man  could  raise  the  bottle  to  his  lips,  the  woman  started 
up,  exclaiming,  "  Bad  luck  to  ye,  Dan  !  don't  drink  it  all  ; "  aud, 
snatching  at  the  bottle,  she  endeavoured  to  take  it  from  him.  In  the 
struggle  it  fell  on  the  floor,  and  rolled  beyond  their  reach,  the  contents 
running  out  upon  the  dirty  boards,  forming  itself  into  little  pools, 
which  emitted  an  effluvia  much  resembling  camphene,  turpentine,  gas, 
and  every  ignitible  matter  within  the  knowledge  of  man,  deposited  in 
one  vessel,  and  sent  by  the  devil,  to  barter  for  men's  souls,  under  the 
name  of  alcohol. 

When  they  saw  the  liquor  was  destroyed,  they  began  to  pummel  and 
scratch  each  other  most  unmercifully.  The  boy  observing  this,  escaped 
from  my  grasp,  hastened  to  his  father,  and,  throwing  his  arms  about 
him,  held  him  fast  until  his  mother  extricated  herself  from  his  clutches  ; 
when  this  was  accomplished  the  boy  retired,  standing  at  some  distance 
from  him,  while  he  continued  to  curse  and  threaten  his  mother.  Then, 
turning  to  the  boy,  he  observed  : 

"  Billy,  what  do  ye  think?  that  ould  witch  has  spilt  all  the  drink." 

"Well,  father,  don't  beat  her  any  more,"  cried  the  boy. 

"Well,  I  won't,  if  ye'll  do  one  thing." 

"  What  is  that  ?"  asked  the  boy. 

"  Did  ye  sell  ve're  chips,  Billy  Vf 

"  I  did." 

"Then,  if  ye'll  take  the  money  and  go  ti'll  the  Dutchman's,  and  get 
a  drop  of  the  crature,  I'll  never  lay  a  hand  on  her  ag'iu.  Come,  now, 
run  away,  that's  a  little  man." 

"  Father,  I  think  ye've  had  enough,"  said  the  boy,  in  a  coaxing 
manner.  "  I  wish  the  Timp'rance  min  would  pass  the  Maine  Law  that 
they  talk  so  much  about — I  think  they  would  be  doing  the  main  thing." 

1  saw  it  would  be  useless  to  remonstrate  with  a  man  in  his  condition. 
I  turned  on  my  heel,  and  left  the  house.  As  I  walked  along  I  fell  into 
the  following  train  of  thought  :  Philanthropy  had  taken  such  rapid 
strides  in  the  cause  of  suffering  Humanity.  The  public  papers  were 
teeming  with  acts  of  Benevolence  and  Charity — I  was  surprised  that  it 
had  not  visited  those  regions.  Was  it  possible  that  it  did  not  go  aside 
from  the  public  walks  of  life  to  dispense  its  gifts  ;  or  was  it  left  for 
some  individual,  more  humane  than  the  rest,  to  place  before  the  public 
the  misery  that  reigns  in  this  section  of  the  city  ?  By  so  doing,  they 
would  have  a  large  portion  of  their  miserable  fellow-beings  ready  cut 
and  dried  for  them,  upon  whom  they  could  exercise  their  charity,  similar 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  9 

to  the  Five  Points  Mission,  well  knowing  that  when  onee  a  stir  is  made, 
the  papers  record  all  donations  ;  and  if  the  benevolent  donors  should 
happen  to  be  of  note,  their  names  are  Herald-^  by  Bennett,  or  they 
bask  in  the  rays  of  Beach's  Sun.  Such  charities  do  not  suit  the  Times. 
They  should  be  sent  with  Dispatch,  by  some  trusty  Courier,  to  the 
Tribune,  where  they  would  be  disrobed  of  their  worldly  deformity,  and 
stand  forth  in  their  true  guise,  and  show  to  the  world  that  Charity  is 
something  more  than  a  name  in  this  our  Empire  City. 

I  am  willing  to  acknowledge  the  benefit  derived  by  a  large  portion 
of  suffering  humanity  from  worldly  charity  ;  or,  in  other  words,  that 
charity  which  springs  from  selfishness,  or  worldly  interest.  For 
instance,  I  have  heard  of  a  very  benevolent  manager  of  one  of  our 
nourishing  theatres,  who  occasionally  sends  a  box  of  boots  and  shoes 
to  the  Five  Points  Mission,  for  the  use  of  the  destitute  children.  But 
docs  he  turn  aside  in  the  dead  hour  of  the  night,  and  search  out  some 
poor,  suffering,  barefooted  child,  and  place  a  pair  of  shoes  upon  its 
feet  ?  He  would  not  need  a  pair  of  spectacles  to  find  one,  for  there 
are  plenty  of  such  spectacles  to  be  met  with,  in  our  streets.  Thus  it 
is  plainly  seen  that  those  public  charities  keep  to  the  broad  walks  of 
life,  while  many  an  object  of  poverty  suffers,  and  dies  unknown,  in 
private. 

While  thought  after  thought  succeeded  each  other  in  my  brain,  I 
was  moved  by  the  appearance  of  a  little  chip-boy  whom  I  saw  coming 
towards  me,  with  a  basket-full  of  chips  upon  his  back  ;  so  pale,  so  sor- 
rowful, care-worn,  and  dejected  was  his  look,  that  it  even  moved  that 
adamantine  substance  composing  my  heart.  And,  dear  reader,  I  can 
boast  of  being  one  of  the  most  unsympathizing,  uncharitable  specimens 
of  the  human  race  left  unhung.  I  stopped  immediately  in  front  of  him, 
and.  with  a  voice  softened  to  as  tender  a  key  as  I  could  assume,  I  asked 
him  what  was  the  matter.  He  made  me  no  answer  ;  but  a  tear  rose, 
and  stood  for  an  instant  in  his  eye,  then,  finding  its  way  down  his  pal- 
lid cheek,  it  fell  upon  the  sleeve  of  his  torn  jacket,  as  if  it  wished  to- 
bury  itself  in  wretchedness. 

I  pulled  my  purse  from  my  pocket  (which,  by-the-by,  is  generally 
very  light),  gave  him  a  penny,  and  passed  on,  intending  to  have  it 
mentioned  in  the  papers,  or  record  it  iu  my  work,  so  that  I  might  be 
enabled  to  reap  all  the  benefit  which  would  accrue  from  placing  the 
knowledge  of  my  donation  before  the  world. 

Being  an  early  riser,  I  sauntered  forth  on  the  following  morning,  just 
at  the  dawn  of  day,  taking  my  way  towards  the  river.  1  observed 
that  there  were  assembled  upon  the  pier  at  the  foot  of  Sixth  street  a 
number  of  Chip-boys,  with  baskets  upon  their  backs  ;  they  were  stand- 
ing in  a  circle,  all  save  one,  who  stood  apart,  in  a  melancholy  attitude, 
gazing  upon  the  waters.  Those  that  were  congregated  together  gave 
one  hearty  shout  as  the  gun,  proclaiming  day,  was  fired  at  the  Xavy- 
yard.  For  this  plainly  told  them  that  the  workmen  would  soon  appear, 
which  would  be  a  signal  for  them  to  commence  their  daily  toil.  To 
while  away  the  intervening  time,  they  commenced  singing,  with  a  not 
unmusical  voice,  the  following  lines,  which  were  arranged  by  some  one 
of  them,  and  called 


10  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

THE  CHIP  BOYS'  SONG. 

We're  a  gang  of  young  rips, 
Who  go  ped'ling  pine  Chips ; 
Through  the  streets  we  go  trudging,  my  honey, 
So  loudly  we  do  cry — 
';  Here's  pine  Chips,  who  will  buy  ?" 
For  we  have  to  work  hard  for  our  money. 

Chorus. — Here's  your  pitch-pine  Chips, 
Here's  your  pitch-pine  Chips, 
Here's  your  pitch-pine  Chips,  to-day. 
Here's  your  pitch-pine  Chips, 
Here's  your  pitch-pine  Chips. 
Come  and  buy,  and  I  will  go  away. 

As  their  voices  died  awayt  the  form  of  a  boy  was  seen,  as  the  increas- 
ing light  began  to  make  the  surrounding  objects  discernible,  hastily 
issuing  from  beneath  the  bottom  of  a  large  vessel,  which  was  upon  the 
stocks,  crying — "  Gooler,  gooler."  (The  name  commonly  given  by 
those  boys  for  plunder.) 

There  was  a  general  scampering  towards  him,  with  the  cry  of 
"  Where  ?  Where  ?"  They  disappeared,  and  returned  again,  bringing 
out  a  quantity  of  tools  that  some  of  the  workmen  had  concealed  the 
previous  evening. 

The  boy  who  bad  remained  apart  from  the  rest,  now  approached,  and 
gently  remarked, 

11  Do  not.  Oh  !  do  not  take  these  tools  ;  it  is  very  wrong  ;  you 
know  that  you  disobey  one  of  the  commands  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ." 

11  Who  cares  for  him  ;  who  is  he  ?"  cried  one  of  the  boys. 

Tommy  replied  (for  by  that  name  we  will  call  our  little  hero) — 

"  Him  who  came  upon  earth,  and  died  to  save  sinners,  such  as  you 
and  me." 

"  Don't  you  call  me  a  sinner,"  cried  the  boy,  going  up  to  Tommy 
and  threatening  to  strike  him. 

"  Who  told  you  so  ?"  cried  another  boy. 

Tommy  made  no  show  of  resistance,  but  meekly  replied  to  the  last 
question — 

"  One  whom  I  hope  and  trust  is  in  heaven — my  mother  !" 

"  Get  out  I"  cried  the  boy  ;  "  we  don't  want  any  of  your 
preaching  f  and  catching  hold  of  Tommy's  cap,  pulled  it  over  his 
eyes. 

Tommy,  extricating  himself  from  the  crowd,  retired  to  the  end  of 
the  wharf.  The  boys  were  about  to  decamp  with  the  tools,  when  one 
of  them  remarked  to  the  rest^  "  that  perhaps  Tommy  would  inform 
upon  them,  should  they  take  the  aforesaid  articles." 

Upon  this  suggestion  from  the  boy,  they  all  ran  to  Tommy,  and 
cried, 

"Will  you  tell?" 

"  If  I  am  asked,"  was  the  reply  ;  "  for  I  was  taught  never  to  tell  a 
lie." 

This  reply  deterred  the  boys  from  stealing  the  tools,  which  they 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  11 

replaced  in  the  spot  from  whence  they  had  been  taken.  And,  as  if  by 
way  of  revenge,  the  urchin  who  had  attempted  to  strike  Tommy, 
cried,  "  Throw  him  overboard."  The  rest  of  the  crowd  catching  the 
idea,  ran  towards  him,  crying,  "  Overboard  with  him  !  overboard  with 
him  I"  And  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  they  seized  Tommy,  and 
before  I  could  reach  the  spot  to  prevent  them,  they  had  hurled  him 
into  the  water  and  ran  off,  shouting  up  the  wharf. 

Tommy  rose  to  the  surface  ;  the  tide  was  running  down  at  a  rapid 
rate,  which  carried  him  from  the  shore  out  into  the  river,  he  soon 
found  it  impossible  to  make  any  headway.'  In  his  efforts  to  swim 
towards  the  city,  he  found  himself  receding  farther  from  it  ;  he  saw 
that  his  basket  impeded  his  progress,  and  placing  himself  in  an 
upright  position,  which  the  boys  generally  term  treading  water,  he 
divested  himself  of  his  incumbrance  ;  in  doing  so  his  jacket,  which 
was  much  too  large,  slipped  from  his  shoulders,  and  was  carried  away 
with  the  stream  ;  he  now  found  himself  at  liberty,  and  being  an 
excellent  swimmer,  he  struck  out  manfully  for  the  pier  at  the  foot  of 
Third-street,  which  he  was  enabled,  by  the  greatest  effort  to  reach, 
and  clambering  upon  the  dock,  he  ran,  chilled  and  shivering,  to  his 
home. 

It  was  a  desolate  looking  home,  that  of  the  Chip  Boy  ; — a  place 
where  vice,  debauchery,  destitution,  and  misery  congregated  ;  squalid 
forms  of  every  hue,  could  be  seen  in  close  communication  ;  if  they  had 
the  sum  which  was  demanded  by  the  old  woman  in  return  for  a 
shelter,  'twas  all  that  was  required. 

Such  was  the  home  of  our  little  hero,  who  had  been  reared  by 
a  pious  mother,  and  had  been  taught  from  his  earliest  infancy, 
although  surrounded  by  poverty,  to  walk  in  the  straight  and  narrow 
path. 

Methinks  I  hear  some  of  my  fair  readers  cry,  "  Why  did  a  boy, 
brought  up  in  that  way,  dwell  in  the  midst  of  such  vice  V 

I  will  take  Paddy's  privilege,  and  answer  by  asking  another  ques- 
tion, "  How  far  Would  a  poor  little  ragged  orphan,  with  no  one  to 
care  for  him,  without  the  attentions  of  a  mother  to  cleanse  him  and 
keep  him  tidy,  have  to  walk,  before  he  could  obtain  a  boarding-house, 
in  this  great  emporium  of  the  Western  World." 

Your  answer  will  probably  be,  "I  never  thought  of  that."  Conse- 
sequently,  a  shelter  must  be  obtained,  even  in  the  low  haunts  of  vice, 
oftentimes  by  poverty-stricken  virtue. 

Upon  the  arrival  of  the  boy,  who  entered  shivering,  from  the  effects 
of  his  cold  bath,  he  was  asked  by  Mrs.  Brown,  the  person  who  kept 
the  place,  what  brought  him  home  ? 

He  timidly  related  the  circumstance  of  his  mishap,  when  he  was 
assailed  with  a  perfect  torrent  of  abuse  ;  and  why  ?  because  every  penny 
that  he  had  been  owner  of,  had  been  deposited  within  the  lining  of  his 
old  jacket,  which  had  gone  floating  down  with  the  tide.  Thus,  the 
savings  of  the  week  which  he  had  collected  to  meet  the  demands  of  the 
landlady,  were  gone  at  one  fell  swoop,  and  this  being  Saturday,  the 
money  was  due. 

"  Get  out  of  my  house,  you  lazy  little  imp.     You  can't  come  it  over 


12  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

udd,"  cried  Mrs.  Brown  ;  "  I'm  up  to  you  ;  it's  only  a  trick  to  cheat  me 
of  my  just  dues." 

"  Indeed,  Mftdam,  I  am  telling  you  the  truth  ;  do  not  be  harsh  with 
me  ;  advance  me  but  money  enough  to  purchase  another  basket,  and  I 
will  work  doubly  hard  to  repay  you." 

"  Clear  out,  clear  out !  I'll  have  no  deceitful  hangers-on  about  me, 
who  try  to  cheat  me  ;  so  in  this  house  you  do  not  stay  a  moment  ;  so 
get  you  gone.     Clear." 

With  these  words  she  pushed  him  up  the  steps  and  out  upon  the 
side-walk  ;  then  going  in,  she  closed  the  door. 

Thrust  out  into  the  open  street,  shivering  with  wet  garments, 
Tommy  walked  disconsolately  along  for  some  time.  He  waudered  from 
one  street  to  another,  and  occasionally,  as  he  cast  his  eyes  upon  the 
baskets  that  were  hung  out  for  sale,  he  wished  for  money  enough  to 
buy  one,  that  he  might  be  enabled  to  commence  work,  to  gain  more 
money.  He  was  on  the  point  several  times,  as  the  day  began  to  wane, 
and  the  cravings  of  appetite  to  come  upon  him,  to  beg  a  basket  from 
some  benevolent  person,  whom  he  saw  at  the  store-doors  ;  but  as  their 
gaze  fell  upon  him,  they  wore  such  harsh  expressions,  that  his  heart 
failed  him,  for  he  dreaded  a  refusal.  He  had  seen  several  persous 
carrying  carpet-bags  and  packages,  which  he  humbly  offered  to  carry, 
hoping  thereby  to  gain  a  trifle  to  purchase  his  evening  me*al,  but  he 
was  rudely  thrust  aside,  with  some  harsh  word  ;  and  thus  he  wandered 
on,  until  night,  aye,  and  long  after  night.  Haviug  wandered  back  into 
the  neighbourhood  where  he  had  started  from  in  the  morning,  the  toy- 
shops and  other  stores  were  all  brilliantly  illuminated.  Weary  and 
hungry  lie  paused  and  stood  gazing  into  a  baker's  window  in  Avenue 
D.,  at  the  cakes  and  bread  so  bountifully  displayed,  but  this  only 
increased  his  appetite,  and  he  was  in  the  act  of  turning  away,  when  a 
lady  came  out  of  the  -door  leading  by  the  hand  a  child,  and  as  they 
passed  him  the  little  girl  cried,  "  Mother,  are  you  not  going  to  buy  me 
the  doll  I  showed  you,  on  Christmas  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  dear,"  was  the  answer. 

How  those  words  affected  Tommy.  A  sense  of  loneliness  came  over 
him — he  had  no  mother — no  friend — no  home.  He  slowly  wandered 
on,  turned  down  Third  street,  and  proceeded  towards  the  wharf.  Upon 
reaching  the  water's  edge,  he  sat  down  and  gazed  into  the  stream, 
which  reflected  back  the  bright  stars  that  shone  upon  its  bosom.  He 
had  often  done  so  of  late  ;  lie  would  sit  there  for  hours,  and  muse  upon 
his  loneliness,  and  think  of  his  departed  mother.  While  sitting  there 
this  eyening,  busied  with  these  thoughts,  he  fell  into  a  gentle  slumber  ; 
lie  appeared  lobe  conscious  that  he  was  looking  into  the  water,  gazing 
at  the  stars,  which  shone  with  a  dazzling  brilliance,  creating  a  bright 
hulo  around  a  throne  of  milky  whiteness,  upon  which  was  seated  the 
great  Eternal  Ruler.  Upon  his  right  hand  sat  his  beloved  Sou,  tlpe 
Redeemer,  iuteveediug  for  our  fallen  race.  Numerous  happy  angels 
flitted  to  and  fro,  obeying  his  mandates  ;  ever  and  anon  sweet  bursts 
of  heavenly  music  would  float  upon  the  balmy  air,  borne  on  by  gentle 
zephyrs,  which  filled  his  soul  with  ecstasy.  In  front  of  the  throne  he 
beheld  the  pale  face  of  his  mother,  who  wras  holding  by  the  hand  his 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  13 

little  sister,  who  had  perished  with  hunger.  His  mother  directed  his 
attention  down  to  the  bottom  of  a  steep  descent,  where  he  beheld  his 
poor,  lost,  deluded  father,  among  many  others,  writhing  in  agony  in  a 
molten  lake  of  burning  tire,  casting-  supplicating  looks  upward  towards 
the  throne  of  the  Most  High.  After  gazing  for  a  few  moments  with 
horror  upon  this  scene,  he  again  turned  his  eyes  upon  his  mother  and 
sister,  when  he  beheld  a  white  banner  floating  above  the  throne,  with 
the  following  words  in  letters  of  gold — '•'  Beware  of  the  Tempter  " — 
displayed  upon  it. 

While  gazing  on  this  heavenly  vision  with  holy  love  and  reverence, 
he  was  startled  by  the  ringing  of  a  bell  near  him,  which  awoke  him, 
and  ail  the  stern,  sad  realities  of  life  returned  upon  him  with  full  force. 
He  shuddered  as  he  thought  of  his  desolate  condition,  and  crawling 
under  some  boards,  he  wept  bitterly,  and  endeavored  to  compose  him- 
self to  sleep. 

Sleep  on,  thou  lone  one.  Weep  not,  poor  boy,  thy  troubles  will  soon 
be  ended  ;  thou  art  not  forgotten  ;  there  is  One  ever  watching  over 
thee,  who  does  not  even  let  a  sparrow  fall  to  the  ground  unnoticed. 

Several  benevolent  and  charitable  persons  wdio  reside  in  the  Elev- 
enth Ward,  and  have  done  much  good  in  the  Temperance  cause,  labor- 
ing diligently  for  years,  ami  whose  efforts  were  blest  in  many  cases,  had 
formed  the  idea  and  had  organized  a  Mission  Sabbath  School  and 
Church,  to  which  they  gave  the  name  of  the  Shiloah  Mission,  for  the 
express  purpose  of  endeavoring  to  induce  those  little  ragged  boys  who 
might  be  seen  upon  the  wharves  on  Sunday,  tossing  coppers,  and  other- 
wise breaking  the  Sabbath,  to  go  to  school. 

The  following  morning  broke  bright  and  beautiful  over  the  city. 
Twas  Sunday,  and  the  first  day  of  the  opening  of  the  Mission,  which 
was  in  Third  street,  near  the  river,  hi  the  morning,  about  nine  o'clock, 
a  man  was  seen  talking  to  a  gang  of  boys  on  the  wharf,  using  every 
persuasive  power  that  he  was  master  of,  to  induce  them  to  go  with 
him,  where  they  would  be  taught  something  useful,  and  hear  the  teach- 
ings of  our  Saviour.  His  invitation  was  treated  with  ridicule  by  most 
of  them  ;  and  seeing  that  he  could  get  none  of  them  to  accompany 
him,  he  looked  around,  and  observed  a  boy  seated  upon  a  piece  of  tim- 
ber, near  the  end  of  the  dock.  He  approached,  and  accosted  him  in 
the  following  words  : 

11  Would  you  not  like  to  go  to  our  Sabbath  School,  'tis  near 
at  hand  \n 

"  Willingly,  sir,  would  I  go,  but  my  clothing  is  so  bad  that  I  am 
ashamed  to  be  seen  anywhere." 

"  .Never  mind  your  clothing,"  replied  the  man,  "our  Saviour  does 
not  look  at  the  outside  garment,  let  it  be  black  or  white,  'tis  the  pure- 
of  heart,  and  love  to  God,  that  He  requires." 

Poor  Tommy  finding  himself  so  kindly  spoken  to,  arose  and  went 
with  him. 

As  they  proceeded  up  the  street,  this  benevolent  person  cmestioned 
the  boy,  thus  — 

'How  is  it  that  your  clothe?  are  in  such  a  horrid  state,  do  your 
parents  drink  '!" 


14  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

Tommy  drew  his  sleeve  across  his  eyes,  wiping  away  a  tear,  as  he 
answered — "  I  have  no  parents." 

Having  arrived  at  the  school,  Tommy  was  placed  in  a  class.  The 
person  that  brought  him  there  intended  to  question  him  further,  after 
the  morning  service,  and  if  he  found  the  boy  was  in  a  destitute  condi- 
tion, to  speak  to  those  with  whom  he  was  associated  in  this  good  work, 
and  arrange  matters  to  have  him  taken  care  of.  But  he  was  prevented 
from  doing  this,  by  an  occurrence  which  created  such  an  excitement  in 
the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the  church,  that  it  interrupted  the  pro- 
ceedings for  the  rest  of  the  day.  I  allude  to  the  arrest  of  Mr. 
Parsons,  for  street-preaching,  which  has  plainly  proved  that  the  evil 
passions  of  men,  have  desecrated  the  sacred  name  of  religion,  and 
have  used  it  for  political  purposes,  as  a  means  to  obtaiu  their  own 
ambitious  views,  and  self-aggrandizement,  which  is  creating  a  deadly 
wxmnd,  causing  disunion  and  distrust,  which  will  dissolve  all  the  bro- 
therly feelings  in  this  Eden  of  ours,  bequeathed  to  us  by  the  immortal 
Washington.  After  the  confusion  had  subsided,  Tommy  was  not  there, 
nor  was  he  found  by  the  men  who  were  in  search  of  him,  until  the  next 
evening. 

We  will  now  take  the  liberty  to  introduce  the  reader  into  the  humble 
dwelling  of  a  mechanic,  where  there  was  a  scene  enacting,  such  as 
would  cause  angels  to  rejoice  around  the  Throne  of  Mercy,  and  which 
plainly  proves  to  the  world,  that  the  Redeemer  died  not  in  vain ;  'twas 
a  deed  of  pure  heartfelt  Charity,  such  Charity  as  is  hidden  from  the 
eyes  of  the  world. 

The  room  contained  five  persons  ;  the  first  that  we  shall  bring  before 
the  reader,  was  a  man  well  advanced  in  years,  a  mechanic,  but  an 
honest  laborer,  having  been  intemperate  in  early  life,  he  had  followed  the 
sea  for  many  years,  but  through  the  influence  of  some  kind  friends,  he 
had  become  temperate,  and  gave  up  the  sea,  was  married,  and  supported 
his  family  by  his  daily  toil.  He  was  seated  near  a  stove  in  which 
sparkled  a  bright  fire,  upon  his  knee  sat  a  bright-eyed  beautiful  child, 
gazing  intently  upon  the  operations  of  its  mother,  on  the  other  side  of 
whom  was  standing  a  boy  about  eleven  years  of  age,  holding  a  lighted 
lamp.  Immediately  in  front  of  the  stove,  the  mother  of  the  family  sat 
busily  engaged  cleansing  our  little  hero  of  dirt  and  vermin,  while  he 
knelt  before  her.  Pause,  ye  gay  butterflies  of  fashion,  pause,  I  say,  in 
your  busy  round  of  pleasure — pause  in  the  midst  of  the  whirling  mazy 
dance,  bid  the  soul-stirring  music  cease,  and  gaze  for  a  moment,  on  the 
humble  occupation  of  this  woman,  that  of  washing  and  comforting  a 
poor  orphan.  She  too,  had  been  one  of  the  giddy  throng,  nurtured  as 
tenderly  and  reared  in  all  the  luxuries  of  life  ;  'but  heaven  had  so 
willed  it,  that  she  was  placed  in  a  humble  sphere,  through  the  vicissi- 
tudes  of  fortunes  ;  but,  be  assured  she  was  happy,  in  being  thus  engaged, 
and  a  tear  arose  in  her  eye  which  dropped  upon  the  boy's  hand,  as  she 
thought  of  his  destitute  situation,  and  she  inwardly  prayed  that  some 
kind  stranger  would  do  the  same  kind  office  for  her  dear  children,  should 
they  be  left  in  a  similar  state.  The  boy  feeling  the  tear  drop  upon  his 
hand,  looked  up  into  her  face,  and  with  a  Countenance  of  heartfelt  gratitude 
exclaimed,  "  Oh  !  you  do  remind  me  of  my  dear  mother,"  saying  which, 


THE  CHTP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  15 

he  burst  into  tears.  After  he  was  washed  and  dressed  in  other  clothes,  he 
looked  comparatively  happy,  seated  beside  the  stove.  The  infant  who 
watched  all  the  proceedings,  appeared  to  see  that  the  boy  was  a  just  object 
for  her  sympathy ;  she  clambered  down  from  the  father's  knees,  and 
having  found  her  little  playthings,  brought  them  to  Tommy,  endeavor- 
ing to  amuse  him.  Her  brother  taking  the  hint  from  the  child,  joined 
with  her,  and  began  singing,  while  the  infant,  whose  natural  genius 
for  music  was  already  developed,  began  to  dance,  which  soon  enlivened 
the  spirit  of  the  boy.  While  seated  here,  in  the  midst  of  this  kind  but 
humble  family,  he  was  questioned  by  Honest  Will  (as  he  was  fami- 
liarly termed  by  those  who  knew  the  man,  who  had  been  a  friend  of  our 
little  hero),  concerning  his  late  misfortunes  ;  after  which,  they  all 
retired  to  rest.  He  did  not  go  to  bed  supperless  that  night,  neither 
did  he  sleep  exposed  to  the  pelting  storm  ;  no  !  he  had  happy  dreams 
of  former  days,  and  a  mother's  spirit  hovering  round  his  pillow. 

We  will  leave  him  under  the  kind  care  of  Honest  Will  for  the 
present,  and  endeavor  to  unravel  the  cause  of  the  destitute  condition 
of  that  poor  boy.  What  a  tale  of  patient  suffering,  fraud,  villainy  and 
intemperance  it  will  disclose,  to  do  which,  we  will  have  to  retrace  our 
steps  many  years  in  the  history  of  our  country. 


CHAPTER    II. 

How  different  were  the  feelings  of  the  residents  of  our  good  city, 
upon  approaching  the  Battery,  some  years  past,  from  what  they  are 
at  the  present  day  ;  those  noble  mansions,  standing  in  all  thorough- 
fares leading  to  that  spot  of  ground  which  should  be  dear  to  every 
American  heart — that  spot  from  whence  the  British  troops  took  their 
departure,  when  they  evacuated  Xew  York  ;  giving  up,  as  it  were,  at 
the  last  gasp,  inch  by  inch,  the  land  of  which  they  were  destined  never 
more  to  hold  possession.  Those  noble  old  mansions  were  inhabited  by 
wealth  and  beauty.  But  the  march  of  improvement  has  marched  our 
aristocratic  merchant  princes  up  town,  and  filled  their  houses  with 
emigrants  and  lager  beer.  Instead  of  seeing  the  face  of  some  young 
and  beautiful  girl  peering  slyly  from  the  curtained  window,  and  the 
sweet  strains  of  music  from  within,  you  behold  half-a-dozen  bare- 
headed Germans,  with  pipes  in  their  mouths,  staring  at  the  passers-by, 
and  jabbering  in  their  foreign  language,  which  causes  the  old  Xew 
Yorker  to  gaze  around,  and,  wondering,  he  asks  himself  if  he  has  not 
been  carried  by  some  magic  power  to  another  land. 

In  one  of  these  houses,  situated  at  the  lower  part  of  Greenwich- 
street,  in  a  room  furnished  with  every  luxury  of  the  times,  was  seated 
three  persons  ;  it  was  a  cold  and  stormy  night  in  the  month  of 
December,  in  the  year  of  1812.  Before  a  large  coal  fire  which 
burned  cheerfully  in  the  grate,  was  placed  a  stand  and  chess-board,  at 
which  two  personages  were  diverting  themselves.-    The  elder  of  the 


16  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

two,  a  Mr.  Graham,  was  a  retired  merchant  of  great  wealth,  who 
came  to  this  country  subsequent  to  the  Revolution,  where  he  had 
amassed  a  handsome  fortune.  He  had  some  years  previous  buried  his 
wife  ;  but,  among  the  cares  and  turmoil  of  business,  it  did  not  affect 
him  much  ;  having  leisure  now  to  reflect  upon  the  past,,  the  image  of 
her  he  loved  would  often  rise  to  his  view;  the  result  was,  that  all  the 
affection  of  husband  and  parent  were  centred  upon,  his  daughter, 
Charlotte  Graham,  a  lovely  girl  of  nineteen  summers,  who  was  seated 
on  the  evening  we  speak  of  at  a  piano,  turning  over  the  leaves  of  a 
music-book,  with  an  abstracted  air,  while  Mr.  Graham  would,* ever 
and  anon,  cast  his  eyes  upon  her,  as  he  paused  in  the  game.  He  was 
a  warm  friend,  generous  to  a  fault  ;  but  of  ungovernable  passions. 
He  was  proud  of  his  wealth,  proud  of  his  child  ;  but  prouder  than  all 
of  his  family  name  ; — he  was  the  third  son  of  an  English  earl. 
Family  pride  was  his  besetting  sin  ;  and,  well  as  he  loved  his  daughter, 
he  would  rather  have  laid  her  in  the  tomb  with  her  mother,  than 
consent  to  her  marriage  with  a  man  who  did  not  hold  the  same  station 
as  herself  in  society.  The  third  person  was  a  young  man,  the  only 
son  of  Mr.  Graham's  sister,  who  had  died  some  years  previous,  leaving 
him  in  care  of  her  brother,  who  educated  him. 

The  father  of  George  Seten  died  comparatively  poor,  but  his 
indulgent  uncle  supplied  him  plentifully  with  money  at  an  early  age, 
which  soon  drew  arouud  him  those  who  are  ever  to  be  found  ready  to 
worship  at  the  throne  of  wealth.  He  saw  the  power  of  gold  ;  lie  saw 
the  advantage  that  money  gave  him  over  his  fellow-men  ;  and,  know- 
ing himself  to  be  dependent  upon  his  uncle,  he  conceived  the  idea  of 
making  Mr.  Graham's  property  his  own.  After  casting  about  in  his 
mind  the  most  plausible  manner  by  which  he  could  obtain  his  desire, 
he  resolved  to  endeavor  to  gain  the  affections  of  his  fair  cousin,  in 
which  he  was  seconded  by  his  worthy  uncle. 

He  was  different  from  most  young  men  of  his  time,  who  were  in  the 
habit  of  indulging  in  the  wine-cup  ;  he  learned  from  experience,  that 
a  man  who  had  a  point  to  gain  in  life,  should  abstain  from  liquor,  for 
nothing  gives  one  man  so  much  advantage  over  another,  as  the  free 
use  of  intoxicating  drinks,  and  he  thought  with  Cassio,  "What 
a  fool  man  is  to  put  an  enemy  into  his  mouth  to  steal  away  his 
brains." 

His  cousin  received  his  advances  coldly.  After  endeavoring  in  vain 
to  make  an  impression  upon  her,  he  resolved  to  change  his  tactics,  and 
appear  simply  as  her  friend,  hoping  by  so  doing  that  he  could  remain 
near  her,  and  wait  until  fortune  should  point  out  some  other  way 
whereby  he  would  be  able  to  obtain  his  cherished  wishes — his  uncle's 
wealth. 

Chance  gave  him  an  opportunity  ere  long  to  hope  for  such  a  result. 
Some  years  previous,  Mr.  Graham  became  acquainted  with  a  gentleman, 
a  farmer,  in  moderate  circumstances,  by  the  name  of  Manvers,  for 
whom  he  conceived  a  strong  friendship.  .Mr.  Manvers  was  one  of 
those  frank,  open-hearted  men,  who  are  occasionally  to  be  found 
among  the  American  fanners  :  lie  was  always  a  welcome  visitor  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  Graham,  when  business  brought  him  to  the  city.     About 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  IT 

two  years  before  the  outbreak  between  the  United  States  and  the 
Mother  Country,  he  brought  his  only  son  to  New  York  to  complete  his 
education  prior  to  his  entering  college,  his  father  depriving  himself  of 
many  necessary  comforts,  to  fulfill  his  son's  desire  to  obtain  an 
education  suited  to  occupy  the  position  of  a  minister,  which  he 
aspired  to. 

On  his  arrival  he  was  introduced  to  the  family  of  Mr.  Graham, 
where  he  often  visited.  At  his  father's  departure  from  home,  he 
requested  his  friend  to  have  an  eye  to  his  boy,  as  he  termed  William, 
adding  that  "  youngsters  sometimes  went  astray  when  away  for  the 
first  time  from  their  mother's  apron  string." 

George  Seten  was  not  well  pleased  at  first  with  this  intrusion  in  the 
family  circle,  fearing  that  it  would  mar  his  plans  for  the  future  ;  he, 
therefore  endeavored  to  draw  William  into  dissipation  ;  for  which  pur- 
pose he  introduced  him  to  a  set  of  men,  whose  greatest  boast  was, 
who  could  drink  the  most.  Such  companions  and  such  scenes  were 
distasteful  to  him,  and  he  soon  withdrew  himself  altogether  from 
their  society  ;  his  greatest  pleasure  was  to  spend  his  evenings  in  the 
society  of  the  lovely  Charlotte  Graham. 

Mr.  Graham  was  fond'of  his  company,  for  William  was  an  expert 
chess-player,  a  game  in  which  Mr.  G.  took  great  delight. 

George  Seten  was  much  from  home  on  evenings,  purposely,  for  he 
had  conceived  the  idea  that  his  fair  cousin  and  William  Manvers, 
being  so  much  together,  would  form  an  attachment  for  each  other, 
which  would  ripen  into  love,  by  their  being  undisturbed.  This  he 
most  earnestly  desired,  as  he  well  knew  that  his  cousin  would  fall 
under  the  displeasure  of  his  uncle,  and  his  dark  mind  saw  that,  there 
was  something  to  be  gained,  should  such  be  the  case. 

Two  such  persons  as  William  Alanvers  and  Charlotte  Graham  could 
not  be  much  together  without  loving,  for  they  were  formed  for  each 
other.  Young  Seten  saw  that  his  hopes  were  about  to  be  realized, 
when  an  event  happened  that  checked  his  bold  and  daring  schemes. 
At  this  eventful  period  war  was  declared  by  the  United  States  against 
Great  Britain. 

Mr.  Graham  was  in  favor  of  the  Mother  Country,  aided  by  Seten, 
who  never  failed  to  agree  with  his  uncle.  William  Manvers  at  times 
had  hard  work  to  maintain  his  ground  against  them  in  defence  of  his 
country,  in  a  continual  war  of  words.  The  friendship  of  Mr.  Graham 
o  visibly  to  cool  towards  our  yoifng  friend,  who,  perceiving  it, 
made  his  visits  less  frequent. 

Rumors  of  battles  would  occasionally  arrive,  which  young  Manvers 
read  with  interest.  A  strong  desire  entered  his  mind  to  go  forth  to 
battle  in  behalf  of  his  native  land  ;  he  accordingly  wrote  to  his  father, 
requesting  his  sanction  ;  to  which  he  received  a  reply  granting  him 
permission,  concluding  thus  : — "  Go  forth  my  son  with  your  father's 
blessing.  The  name  of  Manvers  shone  brightly  in  the  Revolution 
T)o  not  let  it  be  dimmed  in  the  present  struggle  ;  sacrifice  all  but 
honor  and  truth,  for  your  country's  welfare." 

On  the  evening  in  which  he  received  his  father's  letter  he  met  Miss 
Graham  on  the  Battery,  takiug  her  evening  walk  ;  on  joining  her,  they 
conversed  upon  the  common  topics  of  the  day  ;  the  conversation  turned 

2 


18  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK 

upon  the  war,  when  William  mentioned  his  in  tended  departure  for  the 
army,  upon  which  Charlotte  turned  deadly  pale,  and  would  have  fallen 
to  the  ground,  had  not  young  Manvers  caught  her  in  his  arms,  and 
bore  her  to  a  seat  beneath  one  of  the  trees.  With  what  a  thrill  of 
delight  did  he  perceive  her  agitation  ;  it  plainly  told  all  that  his  anxious 
heart  would  know.  On  her  recovering  he  seated  himself  beside  her, 
and,  taking  her  hand,  he  thus  addressed  her  : — 

"  Am  I  indeed  so  blest  ;  or  do  I  deceive  myself,  in  supposing  that 
the  agitation  of  Miss  Graham  was  occasioned  by  the  announcement  of 
my  departure  V  . 

Charlotte  raised  her  eyes  to  his,  beaming  with  love. 

"  It  was.     It  came  upon  me  so  suddenly." 

William  Manvers  drew  still  nearer  to  her  side,  and  poured  into  her 
ear  his  tale  of  love,  and  found  a  willing  listener. 

How  beautiful  that  young  pair  appeared  as  the  setting  sun  poured 
its  rays  upon  their  countenances  :  the  passers-by  gazed  on  them  with 
admiring  looks.  Unheeded  and  forgotten  were  all  surrounding  objects  ; 
they  were  wrapt  in  the  embrace  of  the  enchanter — Love  ;  what  was 
the  outward  world  to  them — all,  all  was  forgotten. 

They  were  aroused  by  the  voice  of  the  servant,  calliug  upon  Miss 
Graham,  whose  father  having  become  alarmed  at  her  lengthened 
absence  had  sent  in  quest  of  her.  They  arose  from  the  seat,  and  gazing 
around,  were  surprised  to  find  that  the  walks  were  all  deserted — time 
had  unconsciously  flown  by  ;  the  moon  had  risen  high  in  the  heavens, 
and  the  bright  stars  peered  forth  on  that  beautiful  evening,,  like  the 
rejoicing  eyes  of  angels  from  the  blue  ethereal  firmament — fit  witnesses 
to  a  tale  of  love  so  pure  and  holy. 

They  parted  at  the  Northern  gate.  Miss  Graham  hastened  to  her 
home;  William  stood  gazing  after  her#  until  she  disappeared  from  view 
up  Greenwich-street  ;  he  turned  lingeringly  round,  and  departed. 
They  did  not  meet  again  until  the  close  of  the  war. 

George  Seten,  with  all  his  ingenuity  and  art,  could  not  ascertain 
whether  there  existed  a  stronger  feeling  than  friendship  between  his 
.fair  cousin  and  William  Manvers.  Vain  had  been  his  efforts  to  gain 
Jier  secret. 

As  we  have  before  stated  in  the  former  part  of  this  chapter,  it  was 
upon  a  cold  winter's  night,  when  we  took  occasion  to  introduce  to  the 
reader  Mr.  Graham,  his  daughter,  and  nephew.  The  wind  came  in 
fitful  gusts,  rattling  against  the  casements.  It  was  a  cold  and  bitter 
night — a  night  on  which  those  who  were  fortunate  enough  to  have  a 
shelter,  would  draw  around  the  fire,  and  shuddering,  think  upon  the 
houseless  poor,  who  were  exposed  to  the  inclemencies  of  the  winter's 
blast.  Charlotte  Graham  sat  turning  the  leaves  of  her  music-book 
without  noting  the  music  ;  her  mind  was  far  away  ;  she  was  thinking  of 
her  absent  lover,  whom  she  had  not  heard  from  but  once  since  his 
departure  ;  tidinga  from  absent  friends  were  not  so  readily  received  in 
those  days  as  they  are  in  the  present.  As  the  happy  days  that  they 
had  passed  together  recurred  to  her  mind,  she  remembered  a  hymn  they 
used  to  sing  together  ;  she  touched  the  keys  of  the  piano,  and  sweetly 
played  it  from  memory. 

Mr.   Graham   and  his  nephew  paused  from  their  game  to  listen. 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  19 

Young  Seten  also  remembered  heariug  then:  sing  that  hymn,  and  he 
well  knew  that  her  thoughts  were  dwelling  upon  Manvers.  He  was 
determined  to  make  an  effort  to  gain  her  secret  ;  the  means  employed 
were  worthy  of  him  ;  it  was  a  master-stroke.  As  Charlotte  concluded 
singing,  Seten  took  the  daily  journal  from  his  pocket,  and  asked 
Mr.  Graham  if  he  had  heard  the  news,  and  on  being  answered  in 
the  negative,  he  continued,  "the  paper  gives  an  account  of  a  battle 
fought." 

He  gave  the  paper  to  his  uncle,  and,  turning  his  gaze  full  upon  the 
face  of  Charlotte,  said,  "  Our  young  friend  William  Manvers  is  men- 
tioned in  the  list  of  wounded." 

Miss  Graham  felt  that  she  was  watched;  she- tried  in  vain  to  conceal 
her  emotion  ;  the  shock  came  so  sudden,  and  the  news,  so  abruptly 
broken,  nearly  overpowered  her  ;  a  deathly  pallor  overspread  her 
countenance,  and  dropping  her  head  upon  the  piano,  she  nearly  fainted. 

George  Seten  felt  happy  ;  he  had  gained  all  that  his  evil  mind 
wished  to  know  ;  he  had  discovered  the  key  that  would  open  to  him  a 
mine  of  wealth,  and  make  him  sole  heir  to  her  uncle's  fortune. 


CHxlPTER  III. 

Charlotte  Graham  was  aroused  by  her  cousin,  who,  having  risen 
from  his  chair,  advanced  to  her  side,  and  addressed  her  in  a  low  tone. 

11  You  had  better  be  more  guarded,  sweet  coz,  or  you  will  betray 
your  secret  to  your  father." 

Charlotte  raised  her  head,  aud  gazing  upon  him  with  a  haughty  air, 
said, 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?" 

"  Oh  !  nothing."  Then,  raising  his  voice,  so  as  to  be  heard  by  his 
uncle, 

"  Cousin,  do  play  something  lively  ;  the  air  you  have  just  honored 
us  with  has  given  me  a  fit  of  the  ague  ;  it  was  as  chilly  as  the  air 
without," 

Charlotte  felt  the  taunt,  but  made  no  reply. 

Mr.  Graham,  who  had  been  busily  engaged  perusing  the  paper,  now 
threw  it  aside. 

11  Come,  George,  for  another  game." 

Seten  then  seated  himself  opposite  to  his  uncle,  and  commenced 
placing  the  chessmen. 

Charlotte  saw  that  her  cousin  had  noticed  her  agitation,  and  knew 
the  cause  ;  but  might  he  not  suppose  that,  hearing  suddenly  of  a  friend 
or  acquaintance  being  wounded,  would  startle  her,  or  did  he  know  of 
her  love  for  Manvers  ?  With  these  thoughts  passing  through  her 
brain,  she  endeavored  to  regain  her  self-possession  ;  and,  placing  some 
new  music,  which  she  had  that  day  received,  touched  the  keys,  and 
commenced  playing  ;  but  ere  she  had  concluded  the  first  part,  they 


20  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

were  startled  by  a  scream  so  piercing,  so  shrill,  so  heart-rending,  that 
it  caused  them  to  spring  from  their  seats. 

In  a  moment  after,  they  heard  a  moaning  and  a  knocking.  Char- 
lotte sprang  to  the  door  ;  on  opening  which  she  was  nearly  thrown 
down  by  the  violence  of  the  wind  ;  upon  the  door-sill  she  beheld  a 
small  boy  ;  she  caught  him  by  the  hand,  and  hastily  drew  him  within  ; 
on  entering  the  room,  they  discovered  that  the  child  (for  he  was  but  a 
mere  child,  his  age  seeming  not  to  exceed  four  years)  was  thinly  clad, 
being  without  hat  or  shoes  ;  Miss  Graham  led  him  to  the  fire  ;  when 
her  father,  taking  him  by  the  hand,  kindly  asked  him  who  he  was  ;  but 
could  obtain  no  other  answer  than — 

"Me  mother — me  mother  V[ 

"  Who  is  your  mother  ?"  he  inquired. 

"  Me  mother — me  mother  I" 

The  boy's  eyes  were  busily  engaged  in  gazing  at  the  different  articles 
of  furniture,  when  they  fell  upon  the  chessmen  ;  he  ran  and  snatched ' 
one  of  them  ;  he  held  it  up  admiringly,  and  danced  round  the  room 
whistling. 

"  Poor  boy  !  lie  is  half-witted,"  remarked  Charlotte  ;  and  again 
taking  him  to  the  fire,  she  kindly  inquired  who  his  parents  were. 

The  boy,  recalled  once  more  to  recollection,  began  crying,  "  Me 
mother — me  mother." 

"Where  is  your  mother  ?"  asked  Charlotte. 

The  boy  pointed  to  the  street. 

"  She  is  sleeping." 

"  Where  ?"  asked  Mr.  Graham. 

''  In  the  street." 

"  Good  heavens  !"  cried  Charlotte  ;  "  it  was  the  mother  of  this  poor 
boy  whom  we  heard  screaming  ;  perhaps  she  lies  perishing  in  the 
street ;"  and,  springing  to  the  bell-rope,  she  rang  violently.  A  domes- 
tic soon  appeared. 

"  Betty,  send  James  and  John  to  me  without  delay  ;  tell  them  to 
bring  a  lighted  lantern  with  them.     Speed — speed." 

Betty  quickly  disappeared  to  obey  her  mistress'  orders. 

Charlotte  hastily  seized  a  cloak  from  off  a  chair,  in  which  she  envel- 
oped her  person,  and  left  the  room  ;  before  she  had  gained  the  outei; 
door,  she  was  joined  by  the  two  men,  who  led  the  way  into  the  street. 

Scarce  ten  paces  from  the  house,  they  perceived  something  lying 
upon  the  clear,  white  snow.  On  approaching  the  spot,  they  saw  it 
was  a  human  being  ;  but  apparently  lifeless. 

"  Poor  creature  !"  involuntarily  burst  from  Charlotte's  lips  ;  "raise 
her  carefully." 

The  men,  obeying  her  orders,  gently  raised  her,  and  bore  her  into 
the  house. 

They  were  met  upon  the  threshold  by  Mr.  Graham. 

"  Charlotte,  it  was  wrong  for  you  to  rush  into  the  street  upon  such 
a  night  as  this." 

Charlotte,  who  had  been  followed  by  her  father  into  the  room,  where 
the  men  had  carried  the  woman,  turned  her  eyes  upon  her  parent,  as ' 
she  replied, 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  21 

"  Dear  father,  is  it  not  better  that  I  should  feel  the  chill  blast  of 
winter  for  a  few  moments,  than  that  that  poor  creature  should  be  left 
to  perish  in  the  cold  V 

'*  You  are  an  angel,  my  love  ;  see  that  she  is  properly  cared  for.'7 

Charlotte  bade  the  men  raise  the  insensible  woman,  and  follow  her 
out  of  the  room. 

Mr.  Graham  now  turned  his  attention  to  the  boy,  who  was  seated 
on  the  rug  near  the  fire  ;  every  one  of  the  chessmen  had  disappeared. 

"  How  came  vou  in  the  street  upon  such  a  cold  night  as  this,  my 
lad  ?" 

"  I  walked  on  my  legs." 

"  It  would  not  take  a  philosopher  to  solve  that  question,"  replied 
Mr.  Graham,  amused  by  the  boy's  ready  answer  ;.  "but  what  caused 
your  legs  to  carry  you  ?" 

"  My  will,"  and  he  commenced  whistling. 

Mr.  Graham,  surprised  at  hearing  such  answers  from  one  so  young, 
again  remarked, 

"  It  was  a  strange  time  for  any  person,  to  have  the  will  to  be  out 
upon  such  a  night  as  this  ;  what  say.  you,  my  little  man  ?" 

He  received  no  other  reply  than  a  vacant  stare — so  blank,  so  dull, 
and  idiotic,  that  few  persons  could  suppose  that  reason  had  even  for  a 
moment  dwelt  within  that  brain. 

Mr.  Graham  saw  at  once  that  the  child  was  one  of  those  unfortunates 
— half  idiot,  half  rational  ;  but  nature  had  counter-balanced  his  idiotic 
moments  by  an  undue  share  of  wit  during  his  sane  moments. 

George  Seten,  who  had  been  a  silent  observer  of  all  that  passed, 
arose,  and,  picking  up  the  paper,  folded  it,  and  placed  it  in  his  pocket. 
Then  took  his  seat  opposite  Mr.  Graham,  who  turned  as  if  to  renew 
the  game  ;  but  on  missing  the  chessmen,  he  inquired  of  Seten  where- 
they  were,  he  sitently  pointed  to  the  boy. 

Mr.  Graham  turned  to  the  lad,  and  demanded  them  of  him. 

The  boy,  whose  name  was  Tommy,  cast  a  look  of  spiteful  hatred  at 
George  Seten,  and  reluctantly  returned  them  to  Mr.  Graham,  who  was 
soon  busily  engaged  in  the  game. 

Tommy  sat  alternately  gazing  into  the  fire  and  on  the  chessmen, 
ruminating  in  his  mind  how  he  could  repay  George  Seten  for  the  fancied 
injury  lie  had  received,  until  he  was  summoned  by  a  domestic  to  follow 
her,  who  conducted  him  to  a  place  of  rest. 

After  having  conveyed  the  insensible  woman  into  another  apartment, 
the  two  men  were  dismissed  by  Charlotte.  Every  restorative  had  been 
used  for  a  time  in  vain,  by  Miss  Graham  and  her  attendants  ;  but  at 
length  their  efforts  were  repaid  by  a  slight  sign  of  returning  life,  a 
reunion  as  it  were  of  soul  and  body.  A  convulsive  shudder  ran  through 
the  frame  ;  she  opened  her  eyes,  and  gazing  wildly  around  upon  those 
who  were  endeavoring  to  aid  her,  she  muttered  some  incoherent  words. 

11  Fear  not,"  remarked  Charlotte  ;  "you  are  in  safe  hands,  who  will 
do  all  in  their  power  to  serve  you." 

"  Where  am  I  f"  inquired  the  woman,  in  a  Scotch  accent. 

"  You  are  with  those  who  will  take  care  of  you,"  replied  Charlotte. 

"Ah!    I  recollect. "   resumed  the  woman;    "I  was  in  the  street, 


22  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

exposed  to  all  the  horrors  of  the  uight,  and  you,"  she  added,  gazing 
into  Charlotte's  face,  with  a  look  of  gratitude,  "  have  been  kind  enough 
to  save  me  from  perishing.  May  the  Lord  forget  me,  lady,  when  I  forget 
your  benevolent  act  !  But  my  boy,  my  puir  boy  !  where  is  he  ?" 
added  she,  gazing  from  one  to  another. 

Charlotte  assured  her  that  he  was  well  taken  care  of.  and  bidding 
the  woman  not  to  agitate  herself,  had  her  conveyed  to  a  sofa.  At  this 
moment  a  servant  entered  with  some  warm  nourishment  that  had  been 
prepared,  and  which  being  given  to  the  womau,  she  evidently  began  to 
gain  strength. 

Miss  Graham  gave  orders  to  her  attendants  to  have  her  conveyed  to 
a  chamber,  and  provided  with  every  necessary  she  might  require. 

On  the  following  morning  her  first  inquiry,  when  her  maid  appeared, 
was  concerning  the  womau. 

She  was  informed  that  the  stranger  had  risen  early,  quite  recovered  ; 
and  now  only  waited  to  thank  her  for  her  kindness. 

Upon  Miss  Graham  descending  the  stairs,  she  was  accosted  in  the 
hall  by  the  woman,  who  stood  waiting,  holding  her  boy  by  her  hand. 
She  bade  her  follow  her  into  an  adjoining  room. 

"Lady,  I  could  na'  think  o'  goin'  awa!  without  seeing  ye,  and 
thanking  ye  for  the  preservation  of  my  life,  and  for  the  care  o'  my  puir 
demented  boy." 

"  How  came  you  to  be  exposed  on  such  a  night  as  the  past,  to  the 
inclemency  of  the  weather  ?"  asked  Miss  Graham. 

"  Lady,  my  story  is  na'  very  lang  j  but  it's  unco'  full  o'  sadness.  I 
fear  it  wad  be  tedious  for  ye  to  listen  fit." 

"  Xo.  Pray  do  tell  it,"  replied  Miss  Graham,  becoming  interested 
in  the  woman,  who,  now  being  recovered,  appeared  to  be  young  ;  her 
age  could  not  exceed  twenty-three  years  :  ner  features  would  be  called 
handsome  by  many  ;  but,  as  she  stood  before  Miss  Graham,  with  her 
countenance  brightened  with  gratitude,  she  appeared  beautiful.  She 
seated  herself,  and,  in  simple  words,  related  her  story,  which  was  to  the 
following  effect. 

"  About  a  year  since  she  came  to  this  country  with  her  husband  and 
child ;  they  were  doing  very  well,  until  two  months  ago,  when  an  acci- 
dent happened  to  her  husband,  who  was  a  carpenter,  caused  by  his 
falling  from  the  building  upon  which  he  was  working,  and  injured  him- 
self so  severely,  that  after  lingering  three  weeks  in  great  pain,  he  died. 
She  had  parted  with  all  she  possessed  to  defray  the  expenses  of  his 
funeral  :  her  own  strength  giving  way,  owing  to  her  troubles,  she  had 
been  prostrated  on  a  bed  of  sickness,  aud  would  have  perished  for 
want  of  nourishment,  but  for  the  kind  attention  of  a  young  lady,  named 
Miss  Temple,  who  had  gone  to  spend  a  few  days  with  an  aged  aunt  in 
Philadelphia.  Before  leaving,  she  had  given  her  a  small  sum  of  money 
for  her  expenditure  until  her  return.  On  the  previous  day  her  landlord 
had  called  and  demanded  his  rent  ;  she  explained  her  situation  to  him, 
when  he  gruffly  told  her  that  she  must  either  leave  the  premises,  or 
pay  the  money  that  was  due  to  him.  In  hopes  that  he  would  not  turn 
her  out  with  her  child  in  such  cold  weather,  she  had  given  him  all  the 
money  that  remained  of  the  little  store  given  her  by  her  benefactress 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  23 

On  receiving  which,  he  coolly  cast  his  eyes  round  the  room,  calculating 
the  value  of  the  few  remaining  articles  that  the  room  contained,  when  he 
rudely  ejected  them  from  the  house,  even  forbidding  the  boy  from  put- 
ting on  ft  little  jacket,  which  lay  upon  the  bench.  She  wandered  from 
one  street  to  another  ;  sometimes  carrying  the  child,  at  others  leading 
him  by  the  hand,  until  her  strength  giving  way,  she  screamed,  and  fell 
to  the  pavement." 

'  At  the  conclusion  of  her  tale,  Miss  Graham  wiped  away  a  tear  from 
her  eye,  which  had  rose  unbidden  at  the  recital. 

"  Have  you  no  relations  or  friends  in  this  country  ?" 

"  Xo,  my  lady  ;  my  bairn  and  mysel'  are  alone  i'  the  warld." 

M  Where  were  you  going  to  V* 

"To  seek  some  place  o'  shelter,  and  endeavor  to  gain  some  employ- 
ment." 

"  Would  you  have  any  objection  to  enter  my  service  V'  asked  Miss 
Graham  ;  "lam  in  want  of  a  trusty  woman." 

The  woman  fell  upon  her  knees,  and  seizing  Miss  Graham's  hand, 
covered  it  with  kisses  ;  and  while  tears  fell  from  her  eyes,  she 
exclaimed : 

"  Bless  you,  lady  !  May  the  choicest  'blessings  o'  God  be  your 
reward.  Do — do  allow  me  to  devote  my  life  to  your  service,  that  I 
may  endeavor  to  repay  you  for  your  benevolence  to  me  and  mine." 

Miss  Graham  bade  her  rise,  and  directed  her  to  take  her  child  into 
the  servants'  room,  and  partake  of  some  breakfast,  and  await  her 
orders. 

She  now  proceeded  to  an  adjoining  room,  where  she  was  surprised  to 
find  her  cousin.  Upon  her  entrance  he  arose,  led  her  to  a  seat,  and 
addressed  her  as  follows  : 

14 1  have  sought  this  interview,  dear  coz,  that  we  may  better 
understand  each  other.  You  well  know  that  it  has  been  one  of  your 
dear  father's  projects  that  we  should  become  united  in  wedlock.  I 
early  saw  that  you  were  averse  to  the  match,  and  consequently  ceased 
to  pay  attentions  which  were  distasteful  to  you.  I  have  long  suspected 
your  love  for  William  Manvers." 

At  the  mention  of  her  lover's  name,  Charlotte  blushed  deeply,  and 
averted  her  face  from  his  gaze. 

"  The  occurrence  of  last  night,"  he  continued,  "  has  too  plainly 
convinced  me  that  I  judged  not  wrong.  Fear  not  for  your  secret,  it 
rs  safe  with  me.  You  well  know  your  father's  great  folly  or  pride — 
that  of  boasting  of  his  ancestors.  I  have  an  idea,  dear  coz,'  that  he 
will  not  willingly  receive  a  farmer's  son  as  the  husband  of  his  daughter, 
nor  allow  plebeian  blood  to  mingle  with  the  pure  current  of  nobility, 
that  can  be  traced  back  as  far  as  the  Xorman  Conqueror.  Whatever 
crosses  or  troubles  your  attachment  for  young  Manvers  may  give  rise 
to,  I  here  pledge  myself  to  aid  you  by  every  means  in  my  power  for 
the  attainment  of  your  desires." 

Charlotte  suddenly  seized  his  hand. 

11  Dear,  good  cousin  ;  this  is  so  kind — so  generous.  You  did, 
indeed,  guess  my  secret — I  do  love  Manvers  ;  but  yet  I  tremble  when 
I  think  should  my  father  become  aware  of  it,  how  violent  would  be'his 


24  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

"  Do  not  anticipate  ;  perhaps  all  will  yet  be  well.  Should  Manvers 
survive  the  war,  and  return  to  our  city,  he  will,  no  doubt,  if  he  still 
loves  you,  solicit  your  hand  from  your  father.  Should  he  be  refused,  a 
clandestine  marriage  is  easily  effected/'  % 

As  he  uttered  these  words,  he  keenly  fixed  his  gaze  upon  her  face, 
endeavoring  to  read  her  thoughts  upon  such  a  step. 

"  It  would  break  my  heart,  to  disobey  my  kind,  indulgent  father's 
wishes,  or  give  him  pain.  Pray,  Heaven,  I  may  be  spared  from  that*. 
You  mentioned,  last  evening,  William's  name  as  being  numbered 
among  the  wounded  V1 

"  1  did.  The  battle  of  Queenstown  has  been  fought  ;  Manvers  was 
wounded,  but  not  dangerously,  nobly  fighting  for  his  country.  Here 
is  the  paper,  you  can  peruse  it  yourself." 

Charlotte  quickly  seized  the  paper  ;  and  saying,  "  Thank  you, 
cousin,"  hastily  left  the  room. 

Seten  followed  her  with  his  eyes  until  she  disappeared  ;  his  counte- 
nance was  illumined  with  a  demoniac  smile — such  as  would  appear  on 
the  face  of  Lucifer,  at  having  triumphed  over  another  soul  ;  and, 
muttering,  "the  game  goes  well,"  seated  himself  to  await  the 
summons  to  breakfast. 

By  the  consent  of  her  father,  Charlotte  received  Jenny  Craige — 
that  being  the  woman's  name  whom  she  had  rescued  from  perishing — 
into  her  service. 

Tommy  became  quite  a  favorite  with  Mr.  Graham,  who  was  greatly 
amused  by  his  tricks,  and  who  never  let  an  opportunity  go  by  to  annoy 
George  Seten  ;  for  he  never  forgave  him  for  detecting  him  in  the  pos- 
session of  the  chessmen,  upon  the  night  he  was  admitted  into  Mr. 
Graham's  house. 

Miss  Temple,  the  young  lady  who  had  been  so  kind  to  Jenny,  had, 
on  her  return  to  the  city,  called  at  the  house  where  she  had  left  her 
lying  sick  ;  and,  on  being  informed  that  she  was  turned  into  the  street, 
traced  her  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Graham,  where  she  called  to  ascertain 
whether  Jenny  had  recovered  from  her  illness  ;  by  doing  so,  she  had 
become  acquainted  with  Miss.  Graham,  after  which  she  often  called. 
It  was  there  "that  Seten  first  beheld  Elizabeth  Temple  ;  and,  so  often 
meeting  her,  he  soon  felt  that  he  loved  her  with  all  the  love  his  black 
heart  was  capable  of. 

Nothing  occurred  to  disturb  the  tranquillity  of  Mr.  Graham's  family, 
until  after  the  difficulties  between  the  United  'States  and  Great  Britain. 
were  happily  arranged,  when  William  Mauvers  .turned  his  steps  home- 
ward, after  fighting  in  several  engagements,  having  been  promoted  to 
the  honorable  title  of  Major  for  his  bravery. 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  25 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Some  four  weeks  previous  to  the  time  on  which  the  occurrences  hap- 
pened that  have  been  detailed  in  the  foregoing  chapter,  as  George  Seten 
was  returning  home  one  stormy  evening,  he  observed  at  a  short  distance 
before  him  a  young  girl,  who  was  endeavouring  to  make  her  way 
against  the  wind  and  rain,  which  blew  directly  from  the  point  to  which 
she  was  proceeding. 

It  was  getting  dark  ;  the  cold  blast  came  in  fitful  gusts,  beating  the 
rain  into  her  face,  which  she  turned  to  avoid,  thus  giving  Seten  an 
opportunity  to  behold  her  face.  He  was  surprised  at.  the  blaze  of 
beauty  that  met  his  gaze  :  she  was,  indeed,  lovely.  Though  poor  in 
worldly  riches,  nature  had,  as  if  in  recompense,  bestowed  upon  her  a 
double  share  of  that  which  all  fashionables  are  most  anxious  to  possess 
— that  which  is  the  pride  of  high-born  dames,  and  the  sure  ruin  of 
many  a  poor  girl — a  fair  countenance. 

Seten  quickened  his  pace  to  overtake  her  ;  his  intentions  were  to 
offer  her  a  share  of  his  umbrella  :  at  this  moment  the  girl's  foot  slipped 
upon  a  piece  of  orange-peel,  and  she  fell  to  the  pavement.  Seten 
sprang  to  her  side,  and  raising  her,  anxiously  inquired  if  she  had 
received  any  injury.  Upon  being  answered  in  the  negative,  he  solicited 
permission  to  escort  her  home,  which  was  timidly  given  by  the  girl, 
who  kindly  thanked  him  for  his  assistance,  blushing  deeply  as  their 
eyes  met. 

She  was  soon  clinging  to  his  arm,  and  partially  sheltered  from  the 
storm,  by  the  umbrella  which  he  held  before  them  ;  thus  giving  them 
an  opportunity  for  conversation.  Ere  they  had  reached  her  home,  he 
.earned  all  he  required  to  know.  She  had  informed  him  that  her- 
self and  her  mother  obtained  a  livelihood  by  needle-work  ;  that  she  was 
just  returning  from  a  store  in  Broadway,  for  which  they  worked,  and 
where  she  had  been  to  obtain  some  money  which  was  due  them. 

Seten  was  always  attracted  by  a  pretty  face,  and  while  she  was  thus 
chatting  as  they  walked  along,  he  was  revolving  in  his  mind  the  most 
approved  plan  to  consummate  the  hellish  design  that  had  taken  posses- 
sion of  his  brain — that  of  her  betrayal. 

Upon  their  arrival,  he  was  requested  to  walk  in,  which  invitation  he 
accepted  ;  and,  on  being  ushered  into  a  small  room,  plainly  but  neatly 
furnished,  he  was  introduced  to  her  mother,  to  whom  he  gave  his  name 
as  Grafton,  and  learned  in  return  that  the  name  of  his  hostess  was 
Smith  :  she  begged  him  to  be  seated,  and  partake  of  a  cup  of  warm 
tea,  which  was  just  ready,  as  a  preventive  to  his  taking  cold. 

He  readily  consented,  and  the  trio  were  soon  seated  at  the  little  table, 
chatting  away  as  familiarly  as  if  they  had  been  acquainted  for  years. 
Seten,  besides  having  a  fine  personal  appearance,  could  make  himself 
very  agreeable  when  in  the  company  of  ladies.  Louisa  was  delighted 
with  him,  and  before  he  had  risen  from  the  table,  he  had  made  a  willing 
captive  of  her  heart.     Mrs.  Smith  sat  looking  on  admiringly. 


26  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

How  cautious  should  mothers  iu  lowly  life  be  what  company  they 
allow  their  daughters  to  keep.  Iu  their  blinduess  aud  anxiety  to 
obtain  an  eligible  match  for  them,  they  do  not  pause  to  reflect  or  ascer- 
tain the  character  of  the  man  ;  if  he  has  wealth,  it  is  all-sufficient  ;  for, 
from  the  cradle  to  the  altar,  wedlock  is  the  aim  of  girls  ;  they  dwell 
upon  it  by  day  and  dream  upon  it  by  night  ;  they  think  that  when 
that  desired  object  is  accomplished,  they  have  fulfilled  their  destinies, 
and  rush  on  headlong  towards  its  consummation,  without  oue  thought 
beyond  it. 

Mrs.  Smith  sat  looting  on  :  future  visions  of  grandeur  arose  before 
her  eyes  ;  she  thought  they  were  formed  for  each  other,  for  a  finer 
looking  couple  could  be  rarely  met  with.  She  was  aroused  from  these 
ideas,  by  Seten  rising  to  depart  ;  and  after  being  pressed,  by  both 
mother  and  daughter,  to  renew  his  visit,  he  wended  his  way  homeward, 
thanking  his  lucky  stars  for  guiding  him  into  the  presence  of  such  a 
lovely  girl. 

The  mother  of  Louisa  was  oue  of  those  kind-hearted,  simple-minded 
women,  who  can  be  found  occasionally  in  the  lower  walks  of  life  ;  she 
was  ever  ready  to  reuder  aid  to  any  one  sticken  down  by  disease  ;  were 
a  neighbour  sick,  Mrs.  Smith  was  the  first  called  upon  ;  she  never  failed 
to  obey  the  summons  readily,  and  when  busied  around  the  couch  of  an 
invalid,  she  was  in  her  glory  ;  she  even  made  it  her  boast,  that  she  was 
never  so  happy  as  when  making  herself  useful.  Different  from  most 
poor  people,  she  had  a  great  respect  for  the  wealthy  ;  and  if  by  chance 
she  was  addressed  or  noticed  by  any  one  belonging  to  the  higher 
circles,  she  would  speak  of  the  circumstance  for  a  month  afterwards. 

Her  husband  died  a  few  years  previous,  leaving  her,  as  most  working 
men  leave  their  widows — destitute,  depending  wholly  upon  their  own 
exertions  for  a  subsistence  ;  but  in  those  days  an  industrious  female 
could  manage  to  support  herself  respectably  by  her  own  labor.  The 
inventive  genius  of  man  had  not  at  this  early  period  brought  before  the 
public  those  machines,  whereby  the  aged  female  and  the  working  girl, 
depending  entirely  upon  their  needle,  are  in.  many  instances  deprived 
of  their  scanty,  hard-earned  pittance. 

With  such  a  weak-minded  mother,  it  was  not  strange  that  the 
education  of  Louisa  Smith  had  been  much  neglected  ;  flattered  by 
those  around  her,  by  whom  she  was  often  complimented  for  her  beauty, 
she  had  imbibed  foolish  ideas,  which  were  not  discouraged  by  her 
mother,  who  often  told  her  she  was  destined  to  flourish  in  fashionable 
life. 

When  Seten  had  left  the  house,  Mrs.  Smith,  looking  at  her  daughter, 
observed, 

"  I  knew,  Louisa,  you  were  born  under  a  lucky  star.  Only  see  what 
a  nice  bean  you  have  got.  For  the  first  time  since  your  father's  death, 
I  dreamed  of  him  last  night  ;  and  to  dream  of  a  deceased  husband, 
never  fails  to  bring  some  good  fortune  to  the  dreamer/' 

Louisa  muttered  some  unintelligible  words,  and  then  pleading  fatigue, 
they  soou  retired  to  rest.  The  mother  to  dream  of  riches,  dispensed 
freely,  as  if  by  some  fairy  hand  ;  the  daughter,  to  dwell  upon  the 
thought  of  her  new-found  lover. 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 


27 


For  some  time  she  tossed  restlessly  upon  her  pillow  ;  at  length,  fall- 
ing'into  a  gentle  slumber,  she  dreamed  that  she  was  walking  with  Seten 
in  a  sequestered  grove.  Nature  had  been  bountiful,  dispensing  with  a 
lavish  hand  flowers  of  every  description  ;  the  air  was  musical  with  the 
songs  of  the  feathered  choristers  ;  a  lake  of  pure  crystal  water  flowed 
at  their  feet,  wherein  they  beheld  the  sports  of  the  finny  tribe  as  they 
darted  hither  and  thither  in  the  transparent  stream  :  upon  the  sur- 
rounding hills  could  be  seen  the  gentle  lambkins  as  they  playfully  gam- 
bolled to  and  fro  ;  night  was  drawing  on  apace,  and  the  setting  sun 
shed  a  flood  of  golden  light  over  the  scene,  tinging  everything  with  a 
mellow  hue.  It  was  a  lovely  and  retired  nook,  where  lovers  could 
unobserved  hold  sweet  converse,  free  from  the  rude  gaze  of  the  world. 
He  had  declared  his  love  for  her,  and  she  leaned  languidly  upon  his 
arm,  nearly  overpowered  with  blissful  emotions,  when  he  playfully 
snatched  a  rase  from  her  hand.  She  endeavored  to  regain  it  :  in  the 
struggle,  it  fell  to  the  ground ;  stooping  hurriedly  to  pick  it  up,  she 
beheld  with  amazement  the  cloven  foot  of  the  Spirit  of  Darkness  ;  a 
loud  peal  of  thunder  shook  the  very  earth  to  its  centre  ;  starting  back 
with  affright,  she  looked  up  into  his  face  ;  but  oh  !  how  altered  ;  there, 
with  gleaming  eyes,  filled  with  hate  and  revenge,  stood  Lucifer  ;  he 
brandished  a  fiery  dart  over  her  head  ;  to  avoid  which,  she  bent  down  ; 
when,  to  her  horror,  she  perceived  that  the  rose  had  assumed  the  form 
of  a  fierce  serpent,  which  ever  and  anon  spit  its  venom  upon  her,  and 
encircled  itself  around  her  slender  form.  The  demon  cried  in  an  angry 
voice,  "Yon  have  discovered  my  secret,  you  must  die."  The  blazing 
dart  entered  her  fair  bosom,  and  the  blood  flowed  in  streams  down  her 
white  robe. 

In  the  struggle  to  prevent  herself  from  falling  she  caught  her  mother 
by  the  arm,  who,  being  aroused  from  her  slumbers,  hastily  awoke  her, 
at  the  same  time  asking  what  was  the  matter. 

Louisa  trembled  violently,  and  clinging  to  her  mother,  replied  that 
she  had  had  such  a  horrible  dream. 

"  Is  that  all  F  asked  her  mother.  ';  Why,  you  silly  child,  compose 
yourself.  I  hope  you  are  not  going  to  let  a  simple  dream  annoy  and 
disturb  you  the  whole  night  V 

"  Oh  !  it  was  so  dreadful  ;  it  still  clings  to  me  in  my  waking 
thoughts  so  vividly,  that  I  fancy  it  is  reality." 

"  Pooh,  pooh  !  go  to  sleep  ;  you  have  awoke  me  from  one  of  the 
most  delightful  dreams  imaginable.  I  thought  you  were  married  to 
that  nice  young  gentleman,  and  that  we  removed  from  this  dreary 
dwelling  to  a  large  and  splendid  mansion  in  the  outskirts  of  the  city. 
It  was  night,  and  in  a  room,  furnished  magnificently,  I  beheld  you  and 
your  husband  seated  at  the  upper  end  receiving  the  homage  of  a  vast 
crowd,  who  came  in  throngs  to  worship  at  the  shrine  of  beauty  ;  sweet 
music  floated  on  the  air  ;  the  bright  light  from  numerous  chandeliers 
reflected  back  a  thousand  lustrous  hues  upon  the  jewelled  dresses  of  the 
visitors.  I  stood  in  a  retired  part  of  the  room,  admiring  all  I  beheld, 
when  I  was  awakened  by  you. 

As  she  concluded,  sleep  again  overcame  her,  and  she  was  soon  locked 
in  the  arms  of  Morpheas. 


28  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

Louisa  lay  awake  for  hours,  unable  to  shake  on  the  horrors  of  her 
dream ;  she  strove  to  assure  herself  that  dreams  were  nothing  more- nor 
less  than  the  imaginings  of  a  disturbed  and  excited  mind. 

"  Poor,  simple  girl  !  throw  not  the  warnings  from  thee  which  the 
Great  Dispenser  has  in  his  mercy  sent  to  save  thee  from  destruction. 
It  is  no  creation  of  distorted  fancy  ;  it  is  one  of  those  occurrences 
which  are  sometimes  permitted  when  the  All-seeing  eye  of  God,  in  pity- 
ing mercy  for  the  innocent  victim,  deigns  to  stretch  forth  a  saving  hand/7 

Towards  morning:  she  fell  into  a  feverish  slumber,  from  which  she 
was  awakened  by  her  mother  bidding  her  rise,  as  the  sun  had  already 
risen  high  in  the  heavens,  proclaiming  that  the  morning  was  far  ad- 
vanced. 

She  arose,  hastily  entered  the  sitting-room,  and  apologized  to  her 
mother  for  her  late  rising.  .They  were  soon  seated  at  breakfast,  when 
Louisa  was  compelled  by  her  mother  to  relate  her  dream,  and  she  con- 
cluded by  saying  that  she  had  never  been  so  terrified  in  her  life. 

Her  mother  laughed  heartily  ;  bidding  her  cast  off  all  gloomy 
thoughts  ;  that  she  felt  assured  her  dream  denoted  happiness  and  pros- 
perity ;  but  at  all  events  she  would  look  up  her  fortune-telling  book, 
and  examine  it. 

The  bright  morning  sun  tended  in  a  great  measure  to  chase  from  the 
mind  of  Louisa  the  horrors  of  her  last  night's  vision  ;  but  throughout 
the  whole  day,  while  even  engaged  in  her  daily  occupation,  it  would 
intrude  upon  her  mind. 

Early  in  the  evening  both  mother  and  daughter,  after  arranging  and 
putting  the  room  in  order,  seated  themselves  at  the  window,  anxiously 
looking  into  the  street,  hoping,  yet  still  fearing,  that  their  new  acquaint- 
ance would  not  come. 

They  were  not  long  kept  in  suspense,  for  Seten  soon  appeared  at  the 
front  door.  Mrs.  Smith  hastened  to  let  him  in  ;  and  upon  entering 
the  little  room,  Seten  approached  Louisa,  and  tenderly  inquired  after 
her  health. 

The  fair  young  creature  had  risen  at  his  entrance,  and  as  she 
extended  her  hand  to  him,  a  shudder  passed  through  her  frame,  and 
she  blushed  deeply  as  their  hands  came  in  contact  ;  they  then  seated 
themselves  upon  the  small  sofa  from  which  she  had  risen. 

Seten,  addressing  Mrs.  Smith,  inquired  if  she  had  spent  the  day 
pleasantly.  He  was  answered  in  the  affirmative,  when  she  drew  a 
chair,  and  seated  herself  near  him. 

During  the  conversation,  Mrs.  Smith  mentioned  the  terror  experi- 
enced by  Louisa  on  waking  from  her  dream  ;  and  laughingly  concluded 
that  she  could  not  have  been  more  frightened  if  it  had  been  real. 

Seten  pressed  Louisa  to  relate  it,  and  being  seconded  by  her  mother, 
she  blushingly  complied  with  their  request. 

When  she  had  arrived   at  the  terrific  finale,  she  raised  her  ey 
those  of  Seten,  who  started,  and  turned   pale  ;  but,  soon   r 
himself,  he  laughed  heartily,  and  holding  up  a  very  small  foot, 
fully  fitted  with  a  new  boot,  he  exclaimed, 

"  My  dear,  that  does  not  much  resemble  the  cloven  foot  of  the 
Arch-deceiver,   nor  does    this    bear    much   resemblance  to   what   we 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  29 

would  suppose  to  be  a  likeness  of  his  Satanic  *majesty."  As  he  thus 
spoke,  he  took  from  his  pocket  a  miniature,  which  he  presented  to 
Louisa. 

The  mother  and  daughter  gazed  upon  it  admiringly,  when  Louisa, 
unobserved,  concealed  it  in  her  bosom,  near  her  heart.  The  evening 
passed  pleasantly  away,  as  did  many -subsequent  ones,  for  Seten  called 
often,  and  he  made  good  use  of  his.  time. 

On  a  pleasant  evening,  about  three  weeks  after  he  became  acquainted 
with  the  family,  he  was  seated  with  Louisa  upon  the  sofa  :  they  were 
alone,  for  the  old  lady  had  gone  to  church,  which  she  never  failed 
doing,  for  she  attended  evening  prayer-meetings,  as  well  as  the  regular 
service  upon  the  Sabbath. 

Seten  sat  with  his  arm  encircling  the  slender  form  of  the  young  girl ; 
he  had  drawn  from  her  an  avowal  of  her  love,  and,  with  her  head 
reclining  upon  his  bosom,  her  beautiful  bust  heaving  with  blissful  emo- 
tions, and  her  deep,  lustrous  blue  eyes  beaming  with  love.  Oh  !  she 
was  happy  :  what  was  the  outward  world  to  her  ?  her  earthly  heaven 
was  complete.  She  thus  remained  motionless,  fascinated,  as  it  were, 
by  his  gaze,  as  the  trembling  bird  is  charmed  and  lured  on  to  destruc- 
tion by  the  gaze  of  the  reptile. 

Seten  saw  and  enjoyed  his  power  over  his  victim,  as  the  hungry 
tiger  revels  in  the  anticipation  of  his  meal  with  the  trembling  lamb, 
crushed  beneath  his  paw  ;  or  the  cat  playing  with  the  little  mouse, 
permitting  it  to  make  vain  efforts  to  escape,  knowing  that  she  can 
devour  it  at  will. 

$  •*  *    .  *  4t  *  *  -/.• 

Dear  reader,  we  will  draw  a  veil  over  the  picture  of  the  betrayer 
and  betrayed,  with  the  knowledge  that  auother  victim  has  been  sacri- 
ficed to  the  base  passion  of  man. 


CHAPTER    Y. 

At  the  close  of  the  war,  when  William  Manvers  returned  to  Xew 
York,  he  presented  himself  at  the  door  of  Mr.  Graham.  Upon  the 
announcement  of  his  name,  Charlotte  rushed  to  meet  him,  and  falling 
upon  his  bosom,  he  imprinted  a  holy  kiss  upon  her  brow,  which  assured 
her  that  his  love  was  unchanged. 

Her  father  received  him  coldly  :  after  sitting  for  some  time,  he  saw 
that  it  would  be  impossible  to  obtain  an  interview  with  her  he  loved, 
snatching  an  opportunity,  he  hastily  informed  her  that  it  was  his 
intention  to  proceed  home  the  following  day,  as  he  felt  very  anxious 
concerning  his  parents  ;  adding,  that  on  account  of  the  unsettled 
state  of  the  country,  he  had  not  heard  from  them  for  a  long  period. 
He  soon  after  took  his  departure. 

When  they  were  left  alone,  Mr.  Graham,  seating  himself  beside 
Charlotte,  thus  addressed  her  : 


30  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

"  I  observed  your  heightened  color,  during  the  stay  of  young 
Manvers  ;  and  a  suspicion  crossed  my  mind  for  a  moment,  that  you 
had  been  unguarded  enough  to  allow  your  heart  to  be  captivated  by 
•his  fine  person  ;  but  I  am  convinced  that  I  judged  wrongfully  ;  did  I 
not,  my  daughter  V  • 

Charlotte  reflected  for  a  moment.  She  had  never  had  a  secret 
unknown  to  him  before,  yet  she  dreaded  his  anger  ;  why  not  meet  it 
now,  as  well  as  postpone  it  to  some  future  period  ?  She  knew  and  felt 
that  her  love  was  so  deeply  rooted  in  her  heart,  that  nothing,  save 
death  could  ever  erase  it.  Coming  to  this  determination,  she  fell  upon 
her  knees  before  him,  and  confessed  her  passion  for  Manvers. 

Mr.  Graham  started  to  his  feet  livid  with  rage. 

"  Is  it  so  ?  fool  that  I  was  to  permit  him  to  mingle  with  my  family. 
The  base-born  churl,  to  sneak  into  society,  far  too  elevated  for  his 
low-bred  mind,  and  steal  the  choicest  flower  from  the  midst  of  those 
who  welcomed  and  trusted  him.  It  is  my  command  that  you  discard 
him  wholly  from  your  thoughts  ;  for,  with  my  consent,  you  never  will 
wed  him." 

"  Dear  father,  I  have  never  disobeyed  your  command  ;  and  how  it 
would  pain  me  to  do  so,  no  tongue  can  express  ;  but  to  obey  your 
wishes  is  beyond  my  control  ;  my  heart  is  his — true  as  the  magnet  to 
the  pole,  is  my  destiny  interwoven  with  his." 

Mr.  Graham  rudely  spurned  her  from  him,  exclaiming, 

**  Then  you  are  no  longer  a  daughter  of  mine  :  the  moment  that 
you  plight  your  faith  to  him  at  the  altar,  that  moment  there  is  placed 
an  impassable  gulf  between  an  indignant,  fond  father,  and  a  disobedient, 
ungrateful  child." 

He  hastily  left  the  apartment  ;  and  Charlotte  rising  to  her  feet, 
proceeded  to  her  chamber,  where  she  wept  bitterly.  Hearing  a  rap  at 
the  door,  she  bade  the  party  enter.  The  door  being  opened,  Jenny 
Craigie  appeared,  and  requested  permission  to  come  in  ;  which,  being 
granted,  the  faithful  creature  fell  upon  her  knees  before  Charlotte, 
saying, 

"  I  hope,  my  leddy,  ye'll  forgi'e  me  ;  it's  no  for  the  likes  o'  me  to 
be  interferin'  with  that  concernin'  my  betters  ;  but  I  would'na  be  able 
to  sleep  soundly,  if  I  thought  any  liarm  would  come  to  ye  !  At  the 
time  when  your  gude  father  was  talkin'  so  loudly  wi'  ye,  I  observed 
your  cousin  standin'  agin  the  door  ;  list'nin'  wi'  sich  a  deeviFs  grin 
upon  his  countenance,  that  it  made  me  think  that  he  was  no  true 
friend  to  ye  ;  and  when  ye  came  to  your  room,  he  bid  me  tell  ye  that 
he  wished  to  speak  to  ye  in  private." 

Charlotte  thanked  the  kind-hearted  Jenny  for  the  interest  she  took 
in  her  welfare  :  and  bade  her  tell  her  cousin  that  she  would  see  him 
in  her  room. 

Jenny  departed,  and  in  a  few  moments  George  Seten  entered, 
and  seated  himself  by  Charlotte,  with  a  look  betokening  deep  sym- 
pathy. 

"  Dear  coz,  I  heard  your  interview  with  my  uncle,  and  I  was 
anxious  to  congratulate  you  upon  the  moderation  with  which  he 
received  your  confession.     Should  he  still  persist  in  his  opposition  to 


THE     CHIP     BOY     OF    THE     DRVT    DOCK. 


31 


your  union,  be  would  soon  forgive  you  should  you  be  forced  to  the 
only  alternative — that  of  being  united  clandestinely.  I  entered  the 
room  on  your  leaving  it.  My  uncle  soon  returned,  and  I  endeavored 
to  plead  in  your  behalf,  but  he  harshly  bade  me  be  silent/' 

After  some  further  conversation,  in  which  Charlotte  was  more 
guarded  than  usual  in  her  expressions* — Seten  departed. 

She  pondered  a  long  time  upon  the  turn  affairs  had  taken  ;  it  was 
evident  to  her  that  her  cousin  had  some  sinister  view  ;  but  what  she 
could  not  tell..  She  resolved,  however,  to  be  guided  by  the  clear 
judgment  of  her  lover.  While  she  sat  thus  buried  with  her  own 
thoughts,  she  was  summoned  by  one  of  the  domestics,  who  had  been 
sent  for  her  by  her  father. 

On  her  appearing  before  him,  he  bade  her  be  seated,  and  addressed 
her  in  the  following  terms  : 

"  Charlotte,  I  have  sent  for  you,  to  see  if  we  cannot  settle  this  diffi- 
culty, amicably.  You  are  aware  of  your  cousin's  destitute  position  in 
regard  to  worldly  matters,  and  it  was  my  anxious  wish  for  a  long  time, 
that  you  would  grow  up  to  love  each  other,  thereby  keeping  my 
estates  in  the  family,  and  thus  placing  him  above  dependence  ;  but  it 
long  appeared  that  being  so  much  together,  has  had  an  effect  contrary 
to  what  I  desired  ;  therefore,  I  make  no  opposition  to  his  endeavoring 
to  gain  the  hand  of  Miss  Temple.  I  am  fast  advancing  in  years,  and 
nothing  would  make  me  so  happy,  as  to  see  you  properly  settled  before 
my  demise  ;  while  revolving  these  thoughts  in  my  mind  a  short  time 
since,  I  received  a  visit  from  my  former  old  partner  in  business,  on 
which  he  stated  to  me  that  nothing  would  gratify  him  more  than  an 
arrangement  to  effect  an  alliance  with  my  family  ;  stating  that  his 
son,  Henry  Wilson,  had  declared  to  him  that  he  had  long  loved  you, 
and  had  requested  him  to  apply  to  me  for  permission  to  pay  his 
addresses  to  you.  As  you  well  know,  young  Wilson  is  a  man  highly 
esteemed  by  all  who  know  him  ;  and  his  family  are  of  the  highest 
standing  in  society.  I,  thereupon  assured  his  father,  that  if  such  an 
arrangement  could  be  brought  about,  it  would  meet  with  my  approval; 
telling  him  at  the  same  time  that  I  would  use  my  influence  with  you  ; 
what  think  you  of  it,  my  daughter  ?" 

"My  dear  father,  I  feel  deeply  sensible  of  young  Mr.  Wilson's  kind- 
ness in  making  me  the  offer  of  bis  hand  ;  but  much  as  I  esteem  him, 
I  feel  assured  that  I  could  never  love  him  :  should  I  consent  to  give 
him  my  hand,  it  would  be  without  my  heart.  And  how,  dear  father, 
could  I  stand  before  the  altar  with  a  lie  upon  my  tongue,  pledging 
myself  to  love  a  man  for  whom  I  had  no  tender  feeling.  Oh  !  no,  no, 
I  could  not  do  it." 

"  Time,  my  beloved  daughter,  may  ripen  esteem  into  love,"  replied 
her  father  ;  "  but  having  clearly  stated  my  views,  I  wish  you  to 
dismiss  that  fortune-hunter,  young  Manvers,  from  your  mind.  Upon 
that  table,"  added  he,  pointing  to  the  side-table,  "you  will  find  pen, 
ink,  and  paper,  and  it  is  my  command — understand  me — it  is  my  com- 
mand, that  you  address  a  note  to  him,  telling  him  it  is  my  opinion  that 
he  is  a  villain,  and  that  you  discard  him  from  your  heart." 

"Never!  father,"  answered  Charlotte,  firmly.     "I  never  willingly 


32  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

told  a  falsehood  in  my  life,  nor  will  I  now  ;  for,  should  I  write  as  you 
dictate,  it  would  be  false  :  my  destiny  is  interwoven  with  his.  It  is 
beyond  my  own  control." 

"Then  take  my  curse,"  angrily,  cried  her  father,  "and  leave  my 
house  :  this  roof  shall  not  shelter  you  longer." 

Charlotte  fell  upon  her  knees  before  him,  exclaiming — 

"Oh  !  father  ;  dear  father,  revoke  those  cruel  "words." 

He  rudely  pushed  her  from  him,  and  left  the  room. 

Charlotte  sternly  arose,  the  arrow  of  disobedience  rankling  in  her 
heart,  and  hastened  to  her  own  apartment,  where  she  hurriedly  packed 
up  a  few  things,  and  was  about  to  leave  the  house  when  she  was  met  in 
the  passage  by  Jenny  and  Tommy  Craigie. 

"Oh  !  my  dear  young  leddy,  are  ye  goin'  awa'  to  leave  us  ?  I'm 
sure  I'll  na  stay  in't  house' a  minute  after  ye're  gone." 

And  Jenny  sobbed  violently. 

Tommy  looked  up  in  Miss  Graham's  face,  saying. 

"I'll  go  too  ;  if  I  lose  my  fun  with  the  old  madman  (alluding  to 
Mr.  Graham)  ;  but  I  won'  give  up  my  tricks  on  Beelzebub.  Oh  ! 
won't  I  come  and  tease  him  sometimes.     Won't  I,  mamma?" 

Miss  Graham  took  Jenny  kindly  by  the  hand,  and,  speaking  in  a  low 
voice,  said — 

"  My  faithful  friend,  I  go  to  seek  a  shelter  for  myself;  this  .house 
can  no  longer  be  my  home  ;  but  it  is  no  reason  that  you  should 
leave  it." 

"  Oh  !  say  not  so,  my  leddy.  I  could  na  sleep  sound  i'  my  bed,  if  I 
did  na  know  that  ye  were  comfortable.  I  wad'na  be  happy  wi'out 
being  wi'ye." 

After  reflecting  for  a  minute,  Miss  Graham  bade  her  go  into  her 
own  room,  and  get  some  articles  of  dress  which  she  described  to  her, 
and  follow  her  to  the  residence  of  Miss  Temple.  She  then  left  the 
house,  with  a  sad  heart. 

Mr.  Graham,  on  hearing  the  door  close,  came  into  the  passage,  and 
inquired  of  Jenny  who  had  left  the  house. 

"  Miss  Charlotte,  sir,"  was  the  reply. 

Mr.  Graham  returned  to  his  sitting-room,  and,  seating  himself,  he 
muttered — 

"Well,  well,  perhaps  I  have  been  too  severe;  but  she'll  return 
again.     Yes,  yes,  she'll  return  again." 

He  thought,  like  too  many  fathers,  who  have  become  advanced  in 
age,  and  the  bright  visions  of  youth  have  passed  away,  that  his  daugh- 
ter was  wrong,  and  that  her  love  was  but  an  idle  passion,  that  time 
would  soon  erase  from  her  memory.  Oh  !  how  he  misjudged  her,  who 
loved  so  truly,  that  it  would  cease  only  with  her  death. 

George  Seten  was  now  the  acknowledged  lover  of  Elizabeth  Temple  ; 
he  had  gained  her  heart.  Many  were  his  protestations  of  love  to  her, 
but  he  did  not  love  her  truly  ;  worldly  aggrandizement  was  his  aim, 
for,  by  wedding  her,  he  would  become  possessed  of  a  vast  fortune. 
Devoted  indeed,  was  her  love  for  him — it  was  a  portion  of  her  exis- 
tence— life  would  be  nothing  without  him  ;  so  well  had  he  cloaked  his 
villainy,  beneath  the  mask  of  hypocrisy.     Their  union  was  only  delayed 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  33 

until  she  should  arrive  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  which  she  wanted  but  a 
few  months  of  attaining. 

Seten  had  still  kept  up  his  connection  with  Louisa,  whom  he  still 
deluded  from  day  to  day  with  promises  of  marriage  ;  offering  as  an 
excuse,  that  should  he  wed  her,  and  it  come  to  the  knowledge  of  his 
father,  it  would  cause  a  rupture  ;  perhaps  he  would  be  cut  off  with  a 
shilling,  and  then  they  would  be  destined  to  lead  a  life  of  poverty  and 
privation  ;  it  was  more  for  her  sake -than  his  own,  he  would  sometimes 
say  ;  and  what  misery  would  it  not  be  to  him  to  see  one  whom  he  loved 
suffering,  without  his  having  the  means  of  relieving  her  wants. 

Louisa  had  become  the  mother  of  a  boy  ;  and,  strange  to  say,  Seten 
loved  the  child  with  the  tender  affection  of  a  parent.  Many  an  hour 
did  he  while  away,  with  little  Frank  seated  upon  his  knee,  listening  to 
his  infant  prattle. 

Mrs.  Smith  had  been  dead  some  months ;  her  daughter's  situation, 
through  her  intimacy  with  Seten,  come  upon  her  like  a  thunder-stroke.. 
She  accused  herself  as  the  cause,  and  her  mind — never  very  strong — 
gave  way  beneath  the  blow  ;  her  reason  tottered,  and  she  would  rave 
for  hours  against  herself,  her  daughter,  and  her  lover.  It  became 
necessary  to  have  her  removed  to  the  asylum  set  apart  for  lunatics, 
where  she  soon  ended  her  days. 

Seten  would  have  long  since  rid  himself  of  Louisa,  had  it  not  been 
for  his  child,  with  whom  he  was  loath  to  part. 

He  was  seated  with  Miss  Temple,  when  Charlotte  arrived  at  the 
house  of  that  lady.  She  was  welcomed  by  her,  to  whom  she  related 
ner  situation,  and  the  stern  and  cruel  commands  of  her  father. 

Seten  remarked  that  his  uncle  was  very  hasty  ;  but  his  passions 
seldom  lasted  long  ;  and  he  had  ::o  doubt  that,  upon  reflection,  he 
would  send  for  her. 

Miss  Temple  placed  two  rooms  at  the  disposal  of  Charlotte,  for  the 
accommodation  of  herself  and  her  attendant,  Jenny,  who  soon  arrived, 
when  her  mistress  bade  her  follow  her  to  her  apartment. 

Seten  being  again  left  alone  with  Elizabeth,  he  made  it  appear  to 
that  young  lady  that  he  sympathized  with  his  cousin,  and  blamed  his 
uncle  for  his  harshness  towards  her,  saying  it  was  cruel  to  order  her 
from  the  house.  At  the  same  time  lie  was  inwardly  resolving  that  she 
should  never  enter  it  aga 

It  was  with  a  beating  heart  that  William  Manvers  sprang  from  the 
wagon  into  the  road,  when  it  stopped  in  front  of  the  gate  which  led  to 
the  house  of  his  father.  He  did  not  pause  to  open  it  ;  but  lightly 
leaped  over  it,  and  hastening  up  the  lane,  he  soon  arrived  in  front  of 
the  house  ;  to  his  surprise  he  found  it  closed,  as  were  the  windows  also, 
which  gave  a  gloomy  appearance  to  everything  that  met  his  view  ; 
gazing  around  wed  an  air  of  neglect  ;   articles  were  screwed 

about  upon  the  ground,  giving  to  the  whole  scene  a  look  of  disorder. 

His  heart  beat  quick  with  apprehension,  as  he  made  a  circuit  of  the 
building  ;  a  dark  foreboding  came  across  his  mind.  Where  was  his 
father,  his  mother,  whom  he  expected  would  meet  him  with  open  arms. 

Looking  anxiously  around,  he  observed  a  stranger  advancing  towards 
him,  who  rude'  sed  him  in  the  following  manner  : 


34  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

.     "  Hello  !  Mister,  what  are  you  adoing  there  V* 

William  answered  him  by  asking  in  an  agitated  voice,  where  Mr. 
Manvers  was  ? 

"  You  must  be  a  stranger  about  these  parts,"  replied  the  man. 

"  I  have  been  long  absent,  and  have  but  just  returned,"  hurriedly 
answered  William. 

I  Where  have  you  been — to  the  wars  V 
"  I  have." 

II  Then,  mayhap,  you  have  heard  something  about  young  Manvers  ? 
that  is,  if  he  is  dead  or  alive  ?" 

"  I  am  lie  !  For  the  love  of  God,  keep  me  no  longer  in  suspense. 
Where  are  my  father  and  mother  ?" 

"They  are  both  dead,"  the  man  abruptly  replied. 

William  heard  no  more  :  he  staggered  to  a  tree,  which  he  leaned 
against  for  support,  and  gave  way  to  his  overcharged  feelings. 

When  he  was  somewhat  recovered,  the  man  informed  him  that  Mr. 
Allen,  the  minister,  would  give  him  what  information  he  required, 
as  the  elder  Mr.  Manvers  had  left  his  affairs  to  be  settled  by  that 
gentleman. 

William  thanked  the  man  for  the  intelligence  he  had  received.  And, 
taking  one  sad  look  at  the  grounds  where  he  had  spent  so  many  happy 
days,  slowly  turned  his  footsteps  towards  the  parsonage. 

Upon  his  arrival,  Mr.  Allen  received  him  at  the  door,  and  welcomed 
him  with  a  silent  pressure  of  the  hand,  and  led  him  into  the  small,  neat 
sitting-room,  where  he  requested  him  to  be  seated. 

William  had  always  been  an  especial  favorite  with  the  good  Pomine, 
who  felt  all  that  a  sympathising  heart  could  feel  for  the  bereavement 
of  his  young  friend. 

After  a  few  moments'  silence,  he  thus  addressed  him. 

"  You  have  been  over  to  the  house  ?" 

William  nodded  assent. 

"Then  you  have,  no-  doubt,  heard  of  your  loss.  My  young  friend, 
remember  it  was  the  will  of  Him  who  rules  above,  to  take  them  from 
this  world  of  sin  and  sorrow,  which  we  must  all  leave  sooner  or  later  ; 
we  should  not  repine,  but  rather  ask  for  strength  and  resignation,  to 
bear  up  under  the  affliction,  from  that  source  from  whence  it  alone  can 
be  received.  And,  falling  upon  his  knees,  that  good  man  prayed  long 
and  impressively  to  the  Great  Dispenser  of  all  good. 

He  then  related  to  William  that  a  rumor  had  reached  the  village 
that  he  had  been  slain,  which  being  suddenly  told  to  his  mother, 
affected  her  to  that  degree,  that  she  survived  the  news  but  one  week. 
His  father,  also,  added  the  good  Pastor,  drooped  and  pined  away  ; 
and,  two  months  from  the  day  on  which  he  followed  her  to  the  grave, 
he  was  himself  carried  to  that  bourne  from  whence  none  return. 

"  The  day  preceding  his  death,  however,"  observed  the  Pastor,  "  he 
called  me  to  his  bed-side,  and  gave  me  his  last  request,  in  the  following 
words  : 

"  Should  my  brave  boy  be  alive,  and  return  to  his  native  place,  tell 
him  I  am  proud  of  him  ;  and  that  I  have  heard  of  his  gallant  deeds  in 
defence  of  his  country's  independence  ;  tell  him  not  to  mourn  for  his 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  35 

father  and  mother  ;  that  we  were  old,  and  had  lived  the  time  allotted 
to  us  ;  assure  him  that  we  died  trusting  in  the  blessed  hopes  held  out 
by  the  Redeemer  to  a  sinful  world  ;  and  tell  him  that  it  is  my  earnest 
prayer  that  he  will  live  such  a  life  that  he  will  not  fear  death.  And 
should  he  never  return,  you  will  find  by  my  will  that  I  have  made  you 
my  heir.'  " 

Mr.  Allen  concluded  by  asking  William  what  his  intentions  were  as 
to  the  future. 

William  replied,  that  his  absence  with  the  army  had  interrupted  his 
studies  to  that  degree,  that  he  had  no  hope  of  recovering  the  time  so 
lost.  Consequently,  he  felt  himself  compelled  to  give  up  his  original 
design,  and  seek  some  other  way  to  pass  through  life.  "  For,"  said  he, 
"  I  can  never  enter  on  the  sacred  duties  of  the  Church  as  Pastor,  with- 
out first  feeling  myself  competent  to  fill  that  holy  office  conscientiously." 

Mr.  Allen  then  inquired  if  he  intended  still  to  remain  in  the  army. 

"No,  sir.  As  it  has  pleased  Providence  to  restore  peace  once  more 
to  my  native  land,  and  as  the  life  of  a  soldier  is  distasteful  to  one  of 
my  habits,  I  have  resigned  ray  commission  until  my  country,  in  some 
future  struggle,  shall  need  my  aid." 

His  aged  friend  next  asked  him  if  lie  had  placed  his  mind  upon  any 
occupation  which  he  was  desirous  of  pursuing. 

William  replied  that  he  had  not  as  yet  arrived  at  any  conclusion. 
But,  at  all  events,  ignorance  of  the  duties  appertaining  to  agriculture, 
placed  the  idea  of  his  following  the  life  of  a  farmer  out  of  the  question. 

11  Should  it  not  be  trespassing  too  much  upon  your  kindness,  my  dear 
sir,  you  would  do  me  a  great  favor  if  you  would  dispose  of  the  property 
left  by  my  father,  to  the  best  advantage." 

Mr  Allen  readily  assented  ;  and  added,  should  the  inclination  lead 
him  to  choose  a  mercantile  life,  he  had  an  old  friend  of  the  name  of 
Stringham,  in  New  York,  who  was  a  merchant,  doing  an  extensive 
business,  to  whom  he  would  give  him  a  letter  of  introduction,  which 
would,  he  had  no  doubt,  be  of  service  to  him. 

William  thanked  Mr.  Allen  for  his  kindness  ;  and  rising,  observed 
that  he  had  a  desire  to  take  a  ramble  through  the  fields,  and  view  some 
of  the  places  which  had  delighted  his  boyhood  days,  and  which  would 
give  his  friend  an  opportunity  to  prepare  the  letter  ;  and  obtaining  the 
key  of  his  home,  he  departed. 

On  leaving  fche  parsonage,  Manvers  slowly  took  his  wa*y  towards  the 
Old  House  that  had  given  shelter  to  his  infant  years  :  arriving  at  the 
door,  he  opened  it  and  entered.  As  he  went  from  room  to  room, 
Qg  the  well-known  objects,  a  sigh  escaped  from  him,  and  he  felt 
a  sensation  of  suffocation  so  powerful,  as  the  past  rose  to  his  memory, 
that  he  hastily  left  the  house  to  gain  the  open  air. 

'Immediately  behind  the  house  stood  a  gentle  eminence,  from  which 
a  view  of  the  surrounding  woods  could  be  obtained.  William  ascended 
the  top,  where,  seating  himself  beneath  a  tree,  he  gave  way  to  his 
melancholy  thoughts  ;  it  was  there,  on  the  very  day  he  departed  from 
home,  that  his  mother  had  sat  beside  him,  conversing  with  him,  and 
anxiously  informing  him  of  the  snares  and  vices  of  the  city  ;  and  on 
that  spot  she  had  won  a  promise  from  him  that  he  f  ould  use  every 


36  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

exertion  to  avoid  them  ;  as  those  thoughts  arose  to  his  memory,  he 
was  resolved  still  to  continue  to  obey  her  gentle  wishes,  and  strive  to 
follow  her  advice  ;  and  a  tear  sprang  from  his  eye  and  flowed  down 
his  cheek,  as  the  thought  arose  in  his  mind  that  he  was  the  last  of  his 
race.  No  father— no  mother— no  kindred— how  lonely  he  felt  :  a 
dark  foreboding  of  the  future  arose  before  him,  aud  he  inwardly 
prayed  to  the  Eternal  Ruler  of  the  Universe,  that  whatsoever  trials 
were  placed  before  him,  he  might  -have  strength  to  bear  them. 

He  arose,  and  as  the  sun  was  fast  sinking  in  the  west,  he  hastened 
his  steps,  and  arrived  at  the  parsonage  just  as  Mr.  Allen  was  about 
to  go  forth  in  search  of  him. 

William  remained  at  the  house  of  his  old  friend  until  the  following 
morning,  when,  on  taking  his  leave,  Mr  Allen  presented  him  with  a 
letter  to  Mr.  Stringham,  adding  these  few  parting  words : 

"  Give  that  to  the  gentleman  to  whom  it  is  addressed,  and  tell  him, 
that  if  the  friendship  professed  by  him  for  John  Allen,  his  old  class- 
mate in  early  days  was  not  empty  words,  he  will  not  refuse  to  comply 
with  the  request  mentioned  in  that  letter.  And,  my  young  friend," 
continued  the  good  old  man,  as  he  wiped  away  a  tear  that  had  risen 
to  his  eye,  "should  the  world  frown  upon  your  efforts,  remember  that 
you  have  a  friend  while  1  live." 

William,  whose  heart  was  too  full  of  emotion  to  reply  by  words, 
pressed  the  hand  of  Mr.  Allen,  jumped  into  the  wagon  that  was  to 
convey  him  from  his  peaceful  abode,  and  was  soon  on  his  way  to  Xew 
York. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

Mr.  Graham  was  very  much  annoyed  at  what  he  termed  the  obsti- 
nacy of  Charlotte  ;  day  after  day  did  he  expect  to  see  her  return  to 
her  home,  while  his  pride  aud  anger  deterred  him  from  sending  for 
her.  He  had  been  informed  by  Seten  of  her  whereabout,  who  endea- 
vored to  keep  up  the  excited  feelings  of  his  uncle,  by  every  means  in  his 
power. 

As  they  were  seated  one  evening  at  their  usual  game  of  chess.  Mr. 
Graham  appeared  nervous,  and  irritated  to  a  great  degree  ;  he 
frequently  applied  himself  to  a  bottle  which  stood  upon  the  table,  from 
which  he  took  large  draughts. 

It  was  with  a  look  of  satisfaction  that  George  Seteu  beheld  his 
companion  take  drink  after  drink,  which  evidently  began  to  take  effect 
upon  him,  as  he  was  not  particularly  addicted  to  it. 

Mr.  Graham  suddenly  paused  in  the  game,  ami  said  :  "  Did  you 
see  Charlotte  last  evening  V1 

"  I  did,  sir,'1  was  the  reply. 

"  Said  she  anything  concerning  any  intention,  of  returning  to  her 
home  r 

11  She  did  nc$.  sir  ;  bat   young  Mauvers  frequently  calls.     He  was 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  37 

there  yesterday.     What  would  my  uncle  say,  should  my  fair  cousin  be 
united  to  her  lover  against  his  command  ?" 

':  Say,"  replied  Mr.  Graham,  with  an  angry  voice.  "  Why,  I'd 
forbid  the  bans,  she  is  not  of  age/' 

•'  You  could  not  do  that,  my  dear  sir  ;  for,  remember  you  drove  her 
from  the  protection  of  your  roof,  thereby  cancelling  the  obligation  of  a 
parent." 

Upon  the  fact  thus  being  pointed  out  to  him,  Mr.  Graharn  raved 
with  passion,  and  clenching  his  hand  upon  the  back  of  a  chair,  he 
hurled  it  accross  the  room,  muttering  "  Curse  him,  curse  him,"  and  fell 
back  upon  the  floor. 

All  was  bustle  and  confusion.  Seten  ordered  the  domestics  to  lay 
him  upon  a  sofa  in  the  back  room.  A  physician  was  sent  for,  who,  on 
arriving,  informed  them,  that  the  disorder  of  his  patient  was  an  attack 
of  the  heart-disease,  aggravated  by  violent  passions,  which,  if  not 
avoided,  continued  the  doctor,  will  most  assuredly  prove  fatal. 

After  administering  an  anodyne,  he  took  his  departure,  saying,  "  I 
will  look  in  in  the  morning  ;  but  I  think  he  will  be  around  before 
that." 

Seten  sat  with  his  uncle  through  the  night,  and  was  very  assiduous 
in  his  attentions,  which  being  observed  by  Mr.  Graham,  he  with  a 
grateful  look  remarked,  that  "  He  hoped  Seten  would  not  desert  him 
in  his  old  age,  as  his  ungrateful  daughter  had  done." 

On  the  following  day  Mr.  Graham  was  able  to  assume  his  place  at 
dinner,  but  he  was  required  to  keep  himself  very  quiet. 

It  was  evening,  in  a  brilliantly  lighted  apartment,  in  the  house  of 
Miss  Temple  were  assembled  some  half-dozen  persons,  consisting  of 
Miss  Temple  and  her  mother,  William  Manvers,  Charlotte,  George 
Seten,  and  a  female  cousin  of  Miss  Temple's.  A  look  of  expectant 
anxiety  rested  on  every  countenance. 

"  I  have  a  fearful  foreboding,"  remarlied  Charlotte,  "  that  I  am 
doing  wrong,  in  wedding  without  the  consent  of  my  dear  father,"  and 
she  looked  at  Mrs.  Temple  as  if  for  advice. 

That  good  lady  took  her  tenderly  by  the  hand,  "  take  courage,  my 
dear,  by  this  step,  you  will  rid  yourself  of  a  great  deal  of  unnecessary 
persecution  ;  and  when  your  father  finds  that  you  are  irrevocably 
married,*  he  will  soon  forgive,  and  welcome  you  home  again." 

"  I  trust  it  will  be  so,"  murmured  Charlotte,  and  she  turned  to 
Manvers,  and  placing  her  hands  in  his,  "  Guide  me,  dear  William, 
guide  me  aright.     I  place  my  destiny  in  your  hands." 

"  Dear  Charlotte,  I  am  of  the  same  opinion  as  Mrs.  Temple,  I  hme 
no  selfish  motives.  'Tis  not  fortune,  but  your  love  alone,  I  crave  ;  let 
those  that  worship  the  yellow  dross  seek  it  ;  I  look  for  happiness  • 
alone.  Happiness  and  gold  are  not  always  companions.  I  would  not 
influence  you  for  worlds,  to  take  this  step,  dearly  as  I  love  you,  lest 
at  some  future  time  you  would  upbraid  me." 

"  Come,  come,  ray  dearest  cousin,  don't  be  too  fastidious,"  jocularly 
remarked  Seten,  we  all  know  that  you,  young  ladies,  are  most  anxious 
to  get  married,  yet  it  takes  more  time  to  bring  it  round  than  it  does 


38  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

to  found  and  build  an  empire.  You  must  not  have  any  more  objec- 
tions, but  will  join  with  me,  in  wishing  that  the  minister  may  come, 
for  I  long  to  get  a  bridal  kiss. 

This  speech  from  her  cousin,  drew  a  general  laugh,  and  the  conversa- 
tion took  a  livelier  turn  ;  jokes  were  passed  to  and  fro,  with  much 
spirit,  so  by  the  time  the  worthy  divine  arrived,  Charlotte  had  become 
more  at  ease. 

Upon  his  entrance,  he  was  introduced  to  Manvers,  who  was  a  stranger 
to  him.  When  quiet  was  restored,  the  holy  man  proceeded  with  the 
ceremony,  and  William  Manvers  and  Charlotte  Graham,  were  made 
one,  by  the  holy  bonds  of  matrimony. 

It  was  with  a  smiling  countenance  that  George  Seten  greeted  the 
bride  and  bridegroom  ;  but  his  heart  beat  with  joy,  at  the  successful 
realization  of  all  his  wishes. 

On  the  following  day,  he  was  seated  with  Mr.  Graham,  when  the 
latter  received  a  letter,  which  was  handed  to  him  by  one  of  the 
domestics. 

Seten  rightly  judged  from  whom  it  came,  and  affected  to  be  busily 
engaged  reading  a  book,  which  he  held  in  his  hand,  but  at  the  same 
time  watching  the  proceedings  of  his  uncle,  who  had  opened  and  was 
perusing  the  note.  As  his  eyes  rested  upon  the  first  lines,  he  turned 
deadly  pale,  and  trembled  violently;  having  read  the  contents  he 
crumpled  the  paper  in  his  hand,  and  threw  it  in  the  grate.  He  arose 
from  his  chair,  exclaiming,  "Forgive  her,  never  !"  and  retired  to  his 
chamber. 

It  was  night — Mr.  Graham  lay  tossing  restlessly  upon  his  bed '  of 
sickness,  to  which  he  had  been  confined  for  several  days  ;  he  had  sent 
for  his  lawyer,  and  had  arranged  his  business  with  him  on  the  day  pre- 
ceding the  night  we  speak  of ;  it  was  after  he  was  left  alone,  for  Mr. 
Graham  was  much  alone  ;  that  he  began  to  reflect — had  he  not  been 
too  hasty,  and  as 'thought  Succeeded  thought,  his  family  pride  rose  to 
his  view.  What  was  the  family  pride  compared  to  happiness  ?  Did 
not  the  peer  lay  as  low  as  the  peasant  after  death  ?  What  were  titles 
and  grandeur  when  consigned  to  the  tomb  ?  He  knew  that  his  daugh- 
ter loved  him  clearly,  and  would  not  willingly  disobey  him ;  he  came  to 
the  conclusion,  that  he  had  been  cruel  and  unnatural.  Instead  ^of  alone, 
the  fair  form  of  his  child  would  have  been  flitting  around  'his  sick 
couch,  ministering  to  his  wants.  With  these  thoughts  passing  through 
his  brain,  he  was  in  the  act  of  summon ing  a  domestic,  for  the  purpose 
of  sending  for  Charlotte,  when  George  Seten  entered,  and  took  a  seat 
near  the  couch. 

"  My  dear  nephew,  do  you  not  think  that  I  have  been  too  severe 
with  my  child  V 

Seten  looked  surprised. 

"  I  have  come  to  the  determination,"  added  Mr.  Graham,  "  to  send  for 
her,  that  I  may  orgive  her  and  press  her  to  ray  heart  once  more." 
Seten  saw  that  at  one  blow  all  his  long-cherished  dreams  would  be 
frustrated  ;  now  was  the  time  for  him  io  act,  and,  should  occasion 
require  it,  desperately. 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  39 

As  Mr.  Graham  was  in  the  act  of  laying  hold  of  the  bell-rope,  which 
hung  above  his  head,  his  hand  was  seized  by  Seten,  who  cried,  "  What 
mean  yon,  uncle  V 

"  To  have  my  daughter  sent  for/'  faintly  replied  Mr.  Graham. 

"  Xever  !"  vociferated  Seten,  who  rudely  forced  the  old  man  back 
upon  the  pillow,  at  the  same  time  placing  his  hand  over  his  mouth,  to 
prevent  his  crying  out  At  this  moment  they  were  startled  by  a  cry, 
so  unearthly  in  its  sound,  that  the  villain  started  and  trembled,  and 
looked  towards  the  window  (which  was  one  of  those  long-sashed 
windows,  extending  to  the  floor,  serving  as  a  door).  Seten  could  see 
nothing,  as  the  curtain  was  closely  drawn,  and  turning  again  to  his 
victim,  he  beheld  only  the  glazed  eye  and  the  rigid  muscles  of -the  face. 

Mr.  Graham  was  a  corpse.  He  had  learnt  the  secret,  to  attain  the 
knowledge  of  which,  man  must  pass  to  eternity. 

When  Seten  was  made  aware  of  the  fact,  he  hastily  proceeded  to  the 
window,  and  looked  out,  but  nothing  meeting  his  view,  he  returned  to 
the  bed  again,  and  adjusting  the  bed-clothing,  took- a  handkerchief  from 
his  pocket,  after  putting  which  to  his  eyes,  he  rang  the  bell. 

On  the  appearance  of  the  servant,  he  pointed  to  the  bed  and 
retired  from  the  room. 

So  violent  was  the  shock  that  Charlotte  received  upon  hearing  of  the 
death  of  her  father,  that  she  never  entirely  recovered  from  it.  Had 
she  been  near  him  to  smoothe  his  pillow,  and  wipe  the  damp,  chilly 
moisture  of  death  from  his  pallid  brow,  she  would  have  been  more 
reconciled.  To  die  without  giving  her  his  blessing  and  forgiveness, 
perhaps,  with  a  curse  upon  his  lip  for  her  disobedience,  was  more  than 
she  could  bear. 

She  so  far  recovered  as  to  be  able  to  attend  the  funeral,  where  Seten 
and  herself  appeared  as  chief  mourners. 

Her  friend,  Miss  Temple,  sympathized  with  her,  and  tried  to  cheer 
her  by  every  means  in  her  power. 

A  few  days  after  the  death  of  Mr.  Graham,  there  were  assembled  in 
the  mansion  of  the  deceased,  George  Seten,  Charlotte  Manvers  and  her 
husband,  the  lawyer  and  witness — it  was  for  the  purpose  of  opening  the  will. 

After  the  usual  preliminaries,  the  lawyer  proceeded  to  open  and  read 
the  last  will  and  testament  of  the  deceased  Robert  Graham,  Esq.,  in 
which  it  was  stated,  that  in  consequence  of  the  disobedience  of  his  only 
child,  Charlotte  Manvers,  in  marrying  against  his  will,  he  had  come  to 
the  determination  to  cut  her  off  with  a  shilling,  and  declare  the  only 
son  of  his  deceased  sister,  George  Seten,  his  sole  heir. 

Manvers  and  his  wife  heard  the  decree  in  silence.  It  was  not  the 
lost  fortune  that  grieved  them  ;  had  they  but  received  the  forgiveness  of 
Charlotte's  father,  they  would  have  been  content  at  the  conclusion  of 
the  bnsiness  that  had  drawn  them  together  ;  they  arose  to  depart: 
Charlotte's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  as  she  cast  a  glance  around  the  room, 
which  she  was  about  to  leave  for  ever,  as  the  thought  arose  to  her 
memory,  how  many  happy  days  she  had  spent  there  with  her  dear 
parent.  .The  schemer  was  alone — the  possessor  of  a  princely  fortune — 
was  he  contented — was  he  happy  ?  no!  there  was  an  apparent  rest- 
lessness pervading  every  motion— a  guilty  eonsciousness  of  having  done 


40  THE  CHI?  BOY  0?  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

\rrong,  which  it  was  impossible  to  drive  from  his  mind.  He  endeavored 
to  justify  himself  in  his  own  opinion,  by  the  following  reasonings — that 
the  world  was  generally  selfish,  each  striving  to  outdo  his  neighbor  ; 
why  not  he  then  follow  the  same  example  ;  it  was  the  motto  of  the 
world  to  lie  and  cheat,  put  on  the  mask  of  hypocrisy  and  inwardly  say, 
that  charity  begins  at  home  ;  why  should  he  not  join  in  and  play  the 
game  of  life  with  interest  ?  Such  was  the  man,  who  was  about  to 
become  the  husband  of  a  young  and  virtuous  girl.  What  a  contrast 
was  there  between  innocence  and  vice,  pureness  of  sentiment  and 
deformity  of  soul. 

William  Manve'rs  had  presented  himself  to  Mr.  Stringham,  who  on 
reading  the  letter  from  his  old  schoolmate,  received  the  young  man 
kindly,  and  made  many  inquiries  after  the  friend  of  his  boyish  days. 

During  the  conversation  Mr.  Stringham  informed  William  that  if  he 
had  an  inclination  to  enter  into  mercantile  business,  his  second  clerk 
had  just  left  to  go  into  business  on  his  own  account,  which  situation 
was  at  his  disposal.  Manvers  gladly  accepted  it,  and  rented  a  small 
convenient  dwelling,  into  which  he  soon  after  removed. 

One  afternoon,  'twas  in  the  latter  part  of  August,  upon  one  of  the 
seats  which  was  shadowed  by  a  large  tree  upon  the  Battery,  was  seated 
Louisa  Smith,  gazing  out  upon  the  water,  and  enjoying  the  cool  breeze. 
Little  Frank  was  playing  near  her  in  the  grass.  As  she  sat  buried  in 
thought,  she  was  aroused  by  hearing  her  child  crying  papa  ;  she  turned 
her  face  in  the  direction  from  whence  she  heard  the  voice,  and  beheld 
George  Seten  coming  towards  her  in  company  with  a  young  lady,  who 
was  leaning  upon  his  arm  ;  little  Frank  was  clinging  to  Seten's  hand 
crying,  "Papa,  papa." 

•''  I  am  not  your  papa,  pretty  boy,"  was  the  reply  of  Setenj  and 
shaking  the  child  off,  they  passed  on. 

Louisa  observed  that  the  lady  was  very  beautiful.  For  the  first  time 
in  her  life,  she  keenly  felt  her  position.  She  heard  her  child  disowned 
by  its  father — that  father  who  had  so  often  sworn  to  do  her  justice — 
whom  she  had  never  doubted.  A  dark  suspicion  took  possession  of  her 
mind,  and  watching  them  until  they  left  the  grounds,  she  followed  them 
until  she  saw  them  enter  a  large  dwelling  in  Whitehall  street  ;  ascer- 
taining the  name  of  the  young  lady,  and  that  she  resided  there,  from  a 
domestic,  whom  she  saw  come  from  the  house  as  they*  entered,  she 
hastened  home. 

On  Seten  entering  his  house,  a  note  was  handed  to  him,  which  he 
hastily  tore  open :  'twas  from  Louisa :  the  writing  gave  evident  signs 
that  it  was  written  in  haste,  and  that  the  writer  was  much  agitated ;  it 
breathed  the  fondest  protestation  of  love,  and  concluded  by  saying, 

"  Haste,  dear  Charles  !  haste  upon  the  wings  of  love.  I  die  with 
inipatiemie.  Yours,  Louisa." 

Seten  foreboded  trouble,  and  seating  himself,  he  commenced  ruminat- 
ing within  himself  the  best  method  to  rid  himself  of  her,  as  his  union 
with  Miss  Temple  was  about  to  take  place.  Rising  and  opening  a 
drawer,  he  took  from  thence  a  bank  check  and  left  the  house. 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  41 

Louisa  sat  anxiously  awaiting  him,  dressed  in  a  loose  robe  of  white. 
Little  Frank  was  seated  at  her  feet.  As  her  gaze  rested  upon  him,  a 
fell  upon  her  cheek  ;  as  she  recalled  to  memory  the  words  that 
Seteu  uttered  when  denying  his  child — her  child,  that  she  loved  so 
intensely.  She  turned  deadly  pale,  and  gasped  for  breath,  as  it 
recurred  to  her,  that  he  was  dealing  falsely  with  her.  She  endeavored 
to  drive  those  thoughts  from  her  mind,  and  she  muttered,  "  No,  no  ! 
he  could  not  be  so  base  ;  is  he  not  the  father  of  my  child,  and  is  he 
not  about  to  become  the  father  of  another  ?  No,  no  !  he  loves  me  too 
well,  to  deceive  me.''  In  the  midst  of  these  thoughts,  she  heard  his 
well-known  step  upon  the  stairs.  She  arose  as  he  entered,  and  threw 
herself  upon  his  bosom,  sobbing. 

Seten  quietly  placed  her  upon  a  chair,  and  taking  a  seat  beside  her, 
inquired  the  cause  of  her  agitation. 

"  Charles,  dear  Charles,  a  dark  suspicion  has  taken  possession  of 
my  mind,  that  you  are  deceiving  me.  Why,  oh  !  why  did  you  deny  your 
boy — your  own  little  Frank,  to  your  companion,  in  my  hearing  ?  Why 
..lake  some  other  reply?  Oh  !  that  the  time  would  come,  when 
you  could  take  me  by  the  hand,  and  acknowledge  me  to  the  world  as 
your  wife." 

Observing  the  abstracted  air  of  Seten,  she  quickly  asked  him  \ 
ailed  him. 

He  coldly  replied,  "  Nothing  extraordinary." 

•:  Do  you  not  love  me  longer,  dear  Charles.     Fray,  teii  me  !     No, 

no,  do  not  undeceive  me ';  rather  kill  me."     And  gazing  into  his  eyes, 

with  a  look  .so  full  of  love,  so  trusting,  she  exclaimed,  "  tell  me,  I  am 

iboli.-n,    Charles,   my  own   Charles,   and    that   my    fears    are   without 

e." 

Seten  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  addressed  her  as  follows  : 

•'  My  dear  Louisa,  fate  wills  that  we  must  part.  What  I  am  about 
to  relate,  I  have  kept  a  secret  from  you,  lest  it  would  wound  your 
feelings,  hoping  that  all  would  be  well.  My  father  compels  me  to 
marry  the  young  lady  you  saw  in  my  company  to-day.  I  have  long 
withstood  his  commands.  This  morning  he  sent  for  me  into  his 
library.  Upon  my  entrance,  he  pointed  to  a  piece  of  parchment  which 
lay  upon  the  table,  and  harshly  speaking,  he  said,  '  Do  you  see  that, 
Boy  V  " 

"  I  answered  in  the  affirmative." 

'" '  Open  it,  and  look  at  it.'  " 

''  I  did  as  I  was  desired.  It  was  a  will,  drawn  and  prepared  for 
signing,  in  favor  of  a  cousin,  who  is  my  next  nearest  male  relative. 
My  father  continued  : 

':  '  I  have  sent  for  you,  to  receive  your  final  determination  in  regard 
to  ray  wishes.  Should  you  comply,  you  will  show  your  good  sense;  if 
to  the  contrary,  in  one  hour  that  will  is  signed,  and  you  are  disin- 
herited."7 

':  You  may  be  sure  I  was  greatly  perplexed,  and  knew  not  what  to 

answer.     I    rapidly   thought   of    our   love.     On   the   one   hand   was 

rty,  accompanied  with  love  ;  on  the  other,  opulence  and  indiffe- 

Pondering  for  a  few  moments  upon  both,  I  came  to  the  con- 


42  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  .THE  DRY  DOCK. 

elusion  that  my  Louisa  loved  me  too  well  to  see  me  drag  out  a  life  of 
penury.  With  this  idea,  I  consented  to  the  proposals  of  my  father. 
Well  knowing,  by  so  doing,  it  would  be  in  my  power  to  provide  hand- 
somely for  my  Louisa,'7 

At  these  words,  he  placed  the  bank  check  in  the  hand  of  Louisa, 
and  continued  speaking  : 

"  I  have  settled  an  amount  equal  to  that  upon  you,  yearly,  which 
will  be  sufficient  to  insure  you  from  want.  Did  I  not  do  right,  my 
dear  V 

And  he  leaned  towards  her  to  kiss  her  ;  but  she  raised  her  hand, 
and  put  him  from  her. 

Louisa  had  sat  motionless,  and  listened  to  Seten,  as  he  went  on 
informing  her  what  had  taken  place  ;  but  gradually,  as  he  spoke,  a 
change  came  over  her.  She  sawr  through  his  duplicity,  and  long  before 
he  had  concluded,  she  had  become  from  the  confiding,  trusting  girl,  an 
injured,  revengeful  woman.  Rising  and  confronting  him  with  flashing 
eyes,  she  said, 

"  Charles  Grafton,  you  are  a  villain  ;  having  used  me  for  your 
purpose,  until  becoming  tired  of  me,  like  a.  child's  toy,  that  has  been 
kept  too  long,  you  would  cast  me  off,  for  the  sake  of  another,  for  the 
reason  that  that  other  is  born  wealthy  j  not  a  poor  seamstress  ;  and 
you  would  barter  gold  for  my  love  !  such  love  as  mine  !  I  would 
have  sacrificed  my  soul's  salvation  to  have  guarded  you  from  the 
slightest  harm.  Take  back  your  money  ;"  and  she  threw  the  cheque 
into  his  face.  "I  give  you  back  vengeance' in  the  place  of  my  love, 
which  you  have  so  ruthlessly  trampled  upon.  You  will  yet  have  to 
learn  the  extent  of  an  injured  woman's  resentment." 

Seten's  eyes  fell  beneath  her  gaze.  The  thought  flashed  through 
his  brain,  "  Why  not  rid  myself  of  her  at  once  ?" 

Louisa  had  taken  the  boy  into  her  arms,  and  had  retired  to  the 
farthest  part  of  the  room.  Seten  advanced  to  her,  and  .forcibly  tore 
the  child  from  her  ;  she  endeavored  to  retain  it  ;  in  the  struggle,  little 
Frank  fell  to  the  floor.  While  stooping  to  regain  him,  Louisa  heard  a 
noise  resembling  the  snap  of  a  spring-catch.  She  arose  hurriedly,  just 
in  time  to  avoid  a  blow  aimed  at  her  by  Seten,  with  a  dirk  pistol 
(which  was  so  formed  that  by  the  touching  of  a  spring  the  dirk  would 
recede  kito  a  sheath  concealed  from  view).  Hence,  the  noise  heard  by 
her.  The  child  was  now  clinging  to  her  dress  and  screaming.  Seten 
again  advanced  upon  her,  and  as  he  was  in  the  act  of  burying  the 
blade  in  her  bosom,  she  threw  his  hand  up,  and  striking  the  pistol 
from  his  hand  ;  it  fell  to  the  floor.  As  quick  as  thought  she  sprang 
and  seized  it,  and  presented  it  at  Seten,  while  she  gained  the  door, 
which  she  opened.  She  knew  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  get  her 
child,  whom  Seten  had  taken  by  the  arms  and  held  before  him  to  cover 
himself  from  the  shot,  should  Louisa  fire.  , 

With  the  pistol  still  pointed,  Louisa  exclaimed,  "To  shoot  you,  I 
risk  the  life  of  my  child  ;  but  beware  of  my  vengeance,  think  not  to 
escape  it.     It  will  come," 

With  these  words,  she  flew  rather  than  ran  down  the  stairs  into  the 
street. 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  43 

Seten  hastened  after  her  with  the  child,  but  when  he  had  gained  the 
pavement  in  front  of  the  house,  he  could  see  nothing  of  her.  He 
took  the  child,  and  hastily  walked  in  the  direction  of  his  own  dwelling. 

Louisa  hastened  on  towards  the  lower  part  of  the  city,  which 
direction  she  had  taken,  occasionally  looking  back,  to  see  if  she  was 
pursued.     Her  dream  recurred  to  her  memory,  and  she  trembled  as 

the  truth  flashed  to  her  mind,  how  nearly  it  had  been  verified 

Pausing  to  recover  breath,  she  looked  around  to  see  where  she  was 
Judge  of  her  surprise,  when  she  found  that  she  had  stopped  in  front  of 
the  dwelling  of  Mrs.  Temple.  She  felt  that  she  had  been  guided  by 
some  unseen  hand  to  that  house,  to  warn  the  fair  young  creature,  who 
she  had  seen  in  the  company  of  Seten,  of  his  villainy. 

With  these  thoughts,  she  sprang  up  the  steps,  and  hastily  rang  the 
bell  ;  the  domestic  who  came  to  the  door,  started  back  at  the  wild  ap- 
pearance of  Louisa,  who  breathlessly  exclaimed, 

"  The  young  lady,  Miss  Temple,  I  wish  to  see  her  immediately." 

Miss  Temple  was  seated  hi  the  front  parlour,  and  overheard  the 
hurried  demand  to  see  herself,  she  immediately  hastened  to  the  door  ; 
upon  beholding  Louisa  she  kindly  iuvited  her  in.  But  the  agitated 
girl  refused,  saying  that  she  could  not  do  so,  at  the  same  time  looking 
along  the  street,  in  the  darkening  distance,  dreading  pursuit.  "  Your 
business  with  me  Miss,"  asked  Elizabeth  Temple. 

Louisa  vehemently  exclaimed,  "The  young  man,  I  saw  you  with 
to-day,  upon  the  battery,  beware  of  him.  He  is  a.  villain,  a  base 
deceiver.  Behold  in  myself  the  fruit  of  his  villainy  ;  a  wretched  out- 
cast from  sd'eiety,  whom  he  lias  made  his  victim,  and  would  basely 
desert  "  Hearing  a  noise  up  the  street,  she  said  no  more  nor  waited 
for  a  reply,  but  swiftly  darting  from  the  steps,  she  was  quickly  out  of 
sight. 

When  Miss  Temple  was  left  alone,  she  felt  her  head  grow  dizzy, 
and  giving  a.  faint  scream,  she  would  have  fallen  to  the  floor,  had  it  not 
been  for  her  mother,  who,  overhearing  the  loud  voice  of  Louisa,  came 
into  the  passage  in  time  to  catch  her  fainting  daughter  in  her  arms  ; 
calling  for  assistance  she  had  Elizabeth  conveyed  to  her  own  room, 
where  she  watched  over  her  with  the  greatest  solicitude. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

We  will  now  pass  over  a  space  of  intervening  years.  In  the  year 
of  1835 — the  time  when  we  again  introduce  William  Manvers  to  our 
readers — he  is  no  longer  the  upright  proud  young  man,  walking  with  an 
elastic  and  buoyant  step,  and  showing  that  daring  impress  upon  his 
broad  and  noble  forehead,  which  too  plainly  told  the  beholder  that  he 
was  willing  to  grapple  with  the  world,  in  the  contest  of  the  battle  of 
life.  A  change  had  come  over  him.  He  was  a  widower,  he  had  a 
long  time  buried  his  wife,  wTho  died  in  giving  birth  to  her  first  born. 

Manvers  had  entered  the  establishment  of  Messrs.  Stringham  and  Co., 
under  the  most  favourable  auspices.     He  had  received  the  amount  for 


44  :  CHIP  EOY  OP  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

which  his  old  friend  Mr.  Allen  had  sold  the  property  left  him  by  his 
father,  and  had  placed  it  in  bank  at  interest,  with  every  prospect  of 
happiness  before  him  he  had  started  in  life,  to  be  made  doubly  miserable 
by  -the  loss  of  that  which  made  existence  desirable — his  wife.  He 
deeply  mourned  her  loss.  His  grief  was  of  that  kind  which  does  not 
show  itself  to  the  eye,  it  was  hidden  within  the  inmost  recesses  of  the 
heart.  He  was  an  altered  man  ;  whatever  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
doing  was  always  done  with  energy  ;  now  all  was  done  mechanically, 
like  a  man  that  walked  in  a  dream.  He  would  sit  for  hours  of  an 
evening  with  his  daughter  upon  his  knee,  gazing  into  her  face,  and  pic- 
turing there  the  features  of  her  he  had  lost. 

Our  old  friend  Jenny  Craigie,  had  clung  faithfully  to  the  fortunes 
of  her  young  mistress,  and  at  her  death  she  had  taken  the  full 
responsibility  and  guidance  of  the  household  affairs.  No  mother  could 
be  a  more  tender  nurse  than  Jenny  was  to  the  fragile  infant,  that  had 
come  under  her  charge. 

Tommy  was  delighted  with  it,  and  never  was  so  well  pleased  as  when 
his  mother  would  allow  him  to  take  it  upon  his  knee,  and  chirp  to  it, 
and  call  it  the  bird  of  paradise  ;  he  would  often  say  to  his  mother  with 
a  mournful  look,  while  a  tear  would  rise  into  his  eye,  that  his  angel 
had  gone  to  heaven  (meaning  Charlotte)  ;  then  with  a  brightening 
countenance  he  would  say,  "  she  was  too  good  to  take  all  away,  that 
she  had  left  a  little  angel  behind  her  to  cheer  them."     : 

Mr.  Stringham  sympathized  with  Manvers,  and  tried  by  every  means 
in  his  power  to  raise  his  drooping  spirits,  but  in  vain  ;  he  employed 
another  clerk  to  make  up  for  the  inactivity  of  William,  who  thus  went 
on  for  years  until  he  began  co  feel  some  trouble  from  the  effects  of  his 
wound  which  he  had  received  in  his  country's  service  ;  in  time  it 
wholly  prevented' him  from  attending  to  any  business,  when  he  was 
compelled  to  draw  upon  his  patrimony,  which  at  the  time  we  re-intro- 
duce him  to  our  readers,  was  all  expended,  principal  and  interest. 
He  an  invalid,  showing  every  sign  of  a  premature  old  age,  brought  on 
by  heartfelt  trouble. 

He  had  attended  to  the  education  of  his  daughter  himself  ;  amongst 
other  accomplishments,  he  had  taught  her  drawing  and  landscape 
painting,  which  she  now  turned  to  good  account,  for  she  found  ready 
sale  for  her  pictures  in  most  of  the  print  shops,  thus  mainly  contributing 
the  support  of  the  family. 

Mary  Manvers  had  grown  up  the  exact  counter  part  of  her  mother  ; 
beloved  by  all  who  knew  her,  especially  the  poor  of  her  neighbourhood, 
who  were  indebted  to  her  for  many  acts  of  kindness  rendered  by  her  to 
them  in  sickness. 

She  was  rather  above  the  middle  stature,  which  when  walking  gave 
her  an  air  of  majesty,  yet  so  fairy  like  were  her  movements,  that  were 
it  not  for  her  rounded  form  just  budding  forth  into  womanhood,  she 
would  have  been  taken  for  a  child  of  twelve  years  of  age.  She  was 
beatftiful  iu  the  extreme,  and  few  persons  gazed  upon  that  fair  young 
creature  without  admiration.  Such  was  Mary  Manvers,  at  the  time 
we  bring  her  before  the  reader.  The  family  of  Mr.  Manvers,  at  the  time 
we  speak  of  were  residing  in  Eldridge  Street,  where  we  will  leave  them 


E  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  45 

for  the  present,  while  we  endeavour  to  trace  out  and  see  what  has  be- 
come of  the  rest  of  our  characters. 

When  Louisa  Smith  hastened  from  the  steps  of  Mrs.  Temple,  she 
turned  the  first  corner,  and  taking  an  uptown  or  northerly  direction, 
she  ran  on  until  she  hud  placed  a  considerable  distance  between  herself 
and  the  place  whence  she  started  ;  when  finding  herself  growing*  sick 
and  faint,  she  stopped  in  front  of  a  moderate-sized  dwelling,  when 
timidly  ringing  the  bell  she  stood  awaiting  an  answer  ;  to  prevent  her- 
self from  falling,  she  grasped  the  iron  railing  of  the  steps,  and  stood 
thus,  when  a  pert  overdressed  young  lady  opened  the  door,  and  with 
an  affected  toss  of  the  head,  she  inquired  what  was  wanted. 

•'For  the  love  of  God,  give  me  a  shelter,  I  am  weary  and  sick  ;  all 
that  I  crave  is  a  place  to  lie  down  upon,  to  enable  me  to  regain  my 
strength,  to  proceed  on  my  way.  Oh,'  grant  me  but  that  request,  and 
may  all  the  blessings  that  heaven  has  to  bestow,  fall  to  your  share.''' 

With  another  toss  of  the  head,  as  she  closed  the  door  in  her  face, 
she  exclaimed,  "  be  off  about  your  business,  I  guess  you  are  no  better 
than  you  ought  to  be.?? 

That  young  lady,  dear  reader,  was  a  devout  member  of  the  church. 
Where  was  her  Christian  charity  ?     She  did  not  imitate  the  teach   ._ 
of  Jesus.     The  poor  girl  descended  from  the  steps,  and  tottered  on  for 
a  few  paces,  when  finding  herself  sinking  to  the  sidewalk,  she,  with  a 
great  effort,  reached  a  door-step,  where  she  fell  fainting. 

She  had.not  long  remained  there  insensible,  when  one  of  the  inmate 
coming  to  the  door,  she  was  kindly  taken  in  and  cared  for. 

Elizabeth  Temple  never  recovered  from  the  shock  she  had  received 
from  the  sudden  communication  of  Louisa.  She  had  loved  with  her 
whole  soul,  and  to  find  that  love  misplaced,  bestowed  upon  an  object 
unworthy  of  it,  was  more  than  her  woman's  heart  could  bear  up  again.--. 
She  locked  her  secret  in  her  own  breast,  not  even  disclosing  it  to  her 
mother  ;  and  as  she  daily  sank,  and  the  rose  faded  from  her  cheek,  she 
inwardly  prayed  that  God  would  take  her  to  Himself.  She  had  no 
desire  to  live.  She  was  attended  by  several  medical  men,  who  differed 
considerably  as  to  the  nature  of  her  disease.  "When  all  had  been 
dismissed  but  the  regular  family  physician,  he,  with  a  grave  face,  pro- 
nounced her  malady  consumption,  for  which  he  administered  the  usual 
remedies,  but  all  his  skill  was  of  no  avail  ;  she  died  of  a  broken  heart, 
and  was  regretted  by  all  who  knew  her. 

When  George  Seten  had  parted  from  Louisa,  and  arrived  at  his  own 
dwelling,  he  placed  the  child  in  the  care  of  a  domestic,  telling  her  at 
the  same  time,  to  take  the  best  of  care  of  him,  and  see  that  he  did  not 
wrant  for  anything.  He  again  issued  into  the  streets,  which  he 
traversed  for  a  considerable  length  of  time,  in  hopes  of  meeting  with 
the  fugitive  girl. 

At  length  he  became  tired,  and  gave  up  the  useless  search  and 
returned  horne.  On  the  following  morning  he  proceeded  to  the  house 
of  his  affianced  bride.  On  his  appearing  at  the  door,  he  was  informed 
that  Miss  Temple  was  unwell,  so  much  so,  as  to  be  unable  to  be  seen. 
He  requested  the  servant  to  inform  her  that  he  was  at  the  door,  and  if 
it  was  not/asking  too  much,  he  would  feel  indebted  to  her,  if  she  would 
permit  him  to  see  her  for  a  moment. 


46  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

The  servant  did  as  desired,  and  returned  (after  keeping  him  impa- 
tiently waiting  for  a  long  time)  with  a  note,  which  she  placed  in  his 
hand,  which  he  opened  and  read,  when  he  immediately  departed.  The 
note  contained  the  following  words — 

"  I  have  discovered  your  baseness.  All  intercourse  must  cease 
between  us,  from  this  moment.  "  Elizabeth." 

As  he  walked  along,  he  crushed  the  note  convulsively  in  his  clenched 
hand,  grinding  his  teeth  with  rage,  as  the  conviction  settled  itself 
in  his  mind,  that  Louisa  had  been  there  and  informed  Miss  Temple  of 
his  connection  with  her.  He  felt  debased,  as  he  thought  that  he  had 
been  turned  off  as  one  unworthy,  and  he  well  knew  that  inquiry  would 
be  busy,  as  to  the  occasion  of  a  rupture  between  them.  He  suddenly 
formed  the  idea  to  go  and  travel.  He  then  arranged  his  business,  and 
having  secured  a  passage  for  Europe  in  one  of  the  packets,  he  departed, 
taking  little  Frank  with  him. 

He  had  remained  abroad  for  many  years,  residing  in  different  coun- 
tries ;  dwelling  for  a  long  time  in  Paris,  for  the  sole  purpose  of  having 
the  education  of  his  son  attended  to.  That  youth,  growing  up  in  that 
gay  city  of  frivolity  and  fashion,  had  acquired  the  knowledge  of,  and 
become  versed  in  most  of  its  vices. 

About  the  time  that  we  have  now  reached  in  our  tale,  jSeten  had 
returned  to  his  native  city,  where,  finding  most  of  his  former  associates 
dead,  or  scattered  abroad  upon  the  face  of  the  earth,  each  working  out 
his  own  future,  Seten  felt  himself  a  comparative  stranger,  and  time 
hanging  heavy  upon  his  hands,  he  looked  around  for  something  to 
employ  his  mind. 

Speculation  was  rife  at  the  period  of  which  wre  are  writing,  and  he 
engaged  in  it.  He  commenced  buying  large  plots  of  ground  in  the 
upper  part  of  the  city,  upon  which  he  soon  erected  several  princely 
mansions.  One,  more  superb  than  the  rest,  he  had  built  to  suit  his 
own  taste,  to  which  he  intended  shortly  to  remove  his  establish- 
ment. 

As  he  was  walking  through  one  of  the  by-streets,  where  he  had  been 
to  look  at  a  lot,  that  he  was  about  to  purchase,  he  was  startled  by 
a  yell,  which  struck  terror  to  his  soul — a  yell  similar  to  that  uttered 
upon  that  night,  years  gone  by,  when  he  grasped  his  dying  uncle  by 
the  throat,  and  threw  him  back  upon  the  bed  from  which  he  never 
rose. 

Busy  scenes  in  foreign  lands  had  nearly  obliterated  it  from  his 
memory  ;  it  was  but  the  sleeping  of  conscience  reposing  in  fancied 
security,  ready  to  be  awakened  at  any  time  with  redoubled  force,  at  the 
most  trivial  circumstance.  He  quickened  his  pace,  as  if  to  avoid  some 
pursuing  demon.  His  former  acts  arose  to  his  mind  with  fall  force. 
The  scheming  villainy  which  he  had  used  to  blind  his  kind,  old  uncle, 
and  turn  the  fond  father's  heart  against  his  only  child,  and  causing 
Charlotte's  death  ;  which  he  thought  was  probably  occasioned  by  a 
broken  heart.  This  train  of  thought  brought  him  to  think  on  Manvers, 
whom  he  had  inquired  concerning,  and  learned  his  exact  position.    The 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  41 

idea  took  possession  of.  his  mind,  that  if  the  cry  that  had  so  alarmed 
him,  proceeded  from  a  living  witness  to  his  act  to  Mr.  Graham,  he,  him- 
self was  liable  at  any  time  to  be  arrested,  or  at  least,  it  would  lead  to 
the  loss  of  that  fortune,  which  he  held  so  unjustly. 

To  obviate  this,  could  he  but  effect  a  union  between  the  families,  by 
uniting  his  adopted  son  (as  he  had  given  out  to  the  world  upon  his 
return  that  that  was  the  relation  in  which  Frank  stood  to  him),  to  the 
daughter  of  Mr.  Manvers,  he  felt  that  he  would  be  secure. 

Full  of  these  thoughts,  he  set  himself  to  work  to  come  to  the  know- 
ledge of  the  residence  of  Mary's  father.  A  few  days  after  the 
occurrence  that  we  have  mentioned,  George  Seten  appeared  at  the 
door  in  Eldridge  street  ;  upon  announcing  his  name,  he  was  requested 
to  walk  into  the  little  parlor  in  which  William  Manvers  was  seated, 
but  so  altered,  that  Seten  started  back  as  his  eyes  fell  upon  his 
countenance. 

They  sat  long,  and  conversed  upon  former  days,  the  memory  of 
which  drew  a  tear  from  William's  eye,  as  the  remembrance  of  her  he 
loved  so  truly  arose  to  his  mind,  and  George  Seten's  heart  smote  him, 
as  it  recurred  to  him  how  deeply  he  had  wronged  him. 

Before  his  departure,  he  mentioned  the  object  of  his  visit,  at  the  same 
time  adding,  "  That  he  had  always  felt  uncomfortable  upon  the  account 
of  the  manner  that  Mr.  Graham  had  disposed  of  his  fortune. 

Manvers  replied  to  him  in  the  following  manner  : 

"  Upon  the  introduction  of  the  young  people,  should  they  like  each 
other  and  form  an  attachment,  he  had  no  objection  ;  but  should  his 
daughter's  inclinations  be  opposed  to  such  a  union,  he  would  not 
enforce  nor  endeavor  to  control  her  will  upon  such*  a  delicate  point  as 
that  which  concerned  her  own  happiness.** 

Seten  replied  that  he  was  contented  that  matters  should  take  their 
own  course  in  this  proceeding,  concluding  by  saying,  that  he  trusted 
to  his  boy  for  winning  his  way  to  the  good  graces  of  the  lady.  Before 
his  departure,  it  was  arranged  that  a  meeting  should  take  place 
between  the  parties  on  the  third  day  from  that. 

While  we  are  waiting  for  that  time  to  arrive,  we  will  introduce 
the  young  man  to  the  reader,,  who  is  about  to  become  either  the  friend 
or  foe  of  Miss  Manvers. 

When  Frank  Seten  returned  with  his  father,  he  was  one  of  those 
men  whose  outward  form  was  calculated  to  gain  the  affections  of  the 
fair  sex,  but  with  a  base  heart  capable  of  the  darkest  deeds.  His 
habits  were  dissipated.  He  had  had  several  altercations  with  his 
father,  upon  the  occasion  of  his  coming  home  intoxicated.  Having 
been  bred  in  Paris,  that  city  of  intrigue  and  licentiousness,  he  was  a 
confirmed  libertine,  with  every  other  bad  quality  supposablc  in  such  a 
person  ;  proud,  vain,  and  revengeful  in  the  extreme.  Let  this  brief 
notice  suffice  for  the  present  ;  his  diabolical  character  will  show  itself 
too  plainly  to  the  reader,  as  we  proceed  with  our  tale.  He  had  upon 
his  arrival  in  the  city,  sought  out  a  set  of  companions  congenial  to  his 
«,  with  whom  he  associated. 

Among  the  number  was  one,  whom  he  selected  for  his  friend,  for  the 
very  reason,  that,  if  it  were  possible,  he  was  a  more  consummate 
scoundrel  than  himself. 


43  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

The  name  of  this  person  was  Henry  Courtland.  His  father  had 
died  some  years  previous,  leaving  him  a  handsome  fortune,  which  he 
was  running  through  with  as  fast  as  he  could  by  dissipation  and  extra- 
vagance. His  aged  mother  yet  lived  to  mourn  over  the  wayward 
habits  of  her  son,  for  which  she  shed  many  a  bitter  tear. 

Upon  the  day  that  George  Seten  called  upon  Manvers,  his  son  and 
Henry  Courtland  were  in  one  of  those  bar-rooms,  situated  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  then  standing  Park  Theatre,  which  was  at  that 
time;  a  great  resort  of  the  young  men  of  the  upper  classes.  They 
had  drank  freely,  and  were  rather  uproarious,  on  which  occasion  the 
bar-tender  was  trying  to  induce  them  to  be  quiet. 

Frank  Seten  became  offended  at  some  remark  which  dropped  from 
his  lips,  and  seizing  the  arm  of  Harry,  he  cried, 

"  Come,  Harry,  let's  be  off ;  I'll  be  if  I'll  patronize  a  house 

where  its  best  customers  are  insulted  by  an  ill-bred  lackey." 

The  bar-tender  was  about,  to  reply  angrily,  when  the  proprietor  of 
the  house  entered,  and  upon  inquiring  into  the  cause  of  the  discussion, 
he  easily  arranged  the  difficulty  by  apologizing  for  his  man. 

The  young  men,  having  become  once  more  in  a  good  humor,  called 
for  another  drink,  and  forced  the  landlord  and  his  bar-tender  to  join 
them. 

Having  drank,  they  staggered  towards  the  door.  On  looking 
towards  Broadway,  they  observed  a  young  lady  advancing  from  that 
direction,  which  would  cause  her  to  pass  within  a  few  feet  of  them. 
They  observed  that  she  was  beautiful,  but  her  habiliments  plainly  told 
them  that  she  belonged  to  that  class  in  society,  which  the  wealthy 
young  men  had  formed  an  idea  that  they  could  insult  with  impunity — 
the  working  class. 

Acting  upon  this,  Harry,  upon  observing  her,  turned  to  Frank,  and 
observed, 

"  I'll  bet  you  a  fifty  dollar  bill,  Frank,  you  are  not  game  to  kiss 
that  pretty  girl/' 

"  Done,"  hiccupped  Frank  ;  and  placing  himself  before  her,  he 
said,  "  I  presume,  Madam,  you  heard  the  bet  ?" 

"What  bet,  sir?'7 

"  That  between  my  friend  and  me.'; 

The  lady,  perceiving  the  situation  of  him  who  interrogated  her, 
endeavored  to  pass  them,  but  she  was  prevented  by  Frank,  who  taking 
hold  of  her  arm,  said, 

"  By  no  means,  madam  ;  I  am  not  going  to  lose  a  fifty  dollar  bill 
just  for  a  little  squeamishness  on  the  part  of  a  foolish  girl.  So  have 
my  kiss  I  will  ; 'prepare  your  lips." 

As  he  was  in  the  act  of  illustrating  his  words,  he  received  a  blow 
from  a  powerful  hand,  which  felled  him  to  the  earth  ;  and  a  young 
man,  dressed  in  the  homely  garb  of  a  mechanic,  placed  his  arm  in 
that  of  the  girl's,  and  walked  on,  leaving  Harry  to  help  his  discom- 
fitted  friend  out  of  the  gutter,  as  he  best  could.  When  he  had 
obtained  an  upright  position,  he  inquired  of  Harry  if  he  thought  he 
could  remember  the  man  that  knocked  him  down,  so  that  he  might  be 
enabled  to  demand  satisfaction,  should  he  be  fortunate  enough  ever  to 
meet  him  ajram. 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  49 

Harry's  reply  was,  "  Certainly,  I  took  a  good  look  at  him." 

Frank  now  remarked  that,  as  they  were  pretty  well  drunk,  they 

had  better  walk  around  for  a  while  in  the  air,  which  would  sober 

them. 

"  Let  us  go  to  Mother  Lisle's,"  cried  Harry.    "Frank,  you've  never 

been  there  ;  'tis  a  splendid  house.     I'm  acquainted  there.     I've  been 

initiated.     She's  got  a  dev'lish  pretty  daughter." 

"  Anywhere,  so  I  can  sleep  for  an  hour  or  two,  I  feel  so  sick." 
The  two  worthies  took  their  way  across  the  park,  and  up  Broadway, 

on  their  way  the  afore-mentioned  house,  where  we  will  leave  them  for 

the  present,  and  return  to  the  girl  and  her  protector. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

When  the  young  mechanic,  with  the  girl  under  his  protection,  had 
proceeded,  hurriedly,  some  distance,  she  tremblingly  looked  back,  and 
observed  to  her  companion — 

"  How  fortunate,  dear  Edward,  that  you  came  along  so  opportune." 

"  How  came  you  in  that  position  ?"  inquired  he. 

She  related  to  him  the  circumstances,  adding — 

"  I  am  sorry  that  you  gave  him  that  blow." 

"It  will  teach  them  better  than  to  insult  unprotected  females  in  the 
street,"  replied  he. 

Thus  they  discoursed,  as  they  proceeded  on  their  way  homeward. 
While  they  are  doing  so  we  will  take  the  liberty  to  inform  the  reader 
who  this  young  man  is,  that  came  along  and  did  such  good  service  for 
the  young  lady. 

Edward  Fay  was  the  son  of  a  ship-carpenter,  who  was  generally 
beloved  by  all  that  knew  him  for  his  nobleness  of  disposition,  kind, 
generous  and  obliging.  Few  asked  a  favor  of  him,  that  was  refused, 
if  he  had  it  in  his  power  to  grant  it.  But,  among  adl  his  good  quali- 
ties, he  had  one  failing — he  was  his  own  enemy.  He  drank  deeply  at 
times. 

About  three  years  previous  to  the  time  we  have  introduced  his  son, 
who  was  then  an  apprentice,  and  working  on  the  same  vessel  with  his 
father,  the  latter,  one  day,  being  intoxicated,  fell  from  a  scaffolding 
which  was  attached  to  the  vessel.  His  son  saw  him  fall,  and  hasten- 
ing down,  was  horror  struck  at  the"  sight  that  met  his  view.  He  had 
the  mangled  remains  of  his  dead  parent  removed  to  his  home. 

His  mother   fainted,   as   his    corpse    was   carried   into   the   house. 

When  becoming  conscious  of  her  bereavement,  after  several  successive 

fits,  she  observed  a  young  girl  kneeling  beside  her.     Her  son  was 

seated  upon  a  chair,  gazing  with  a  wild  look  and  fevered  brain  upon 

some  persons  who  were  arrauging  the  disfigured  body  upon  a  camp 

cot,  which  had  been  brought  to  receive  it.     Not  a  tear  came  to  his 

relief,  so  stunning  was  the  sudden  aud  fatal  accident,  that  it  appeared 

like  some  horrid  dream. 

4 


50  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK- 

The  girl,  in  her  endeavors  to  console  his  mother,  arrested  his  atten- 
tion by  her  angelic"  voice,  as  she  spoke  comfort  to  his  only  parent,  who 
was  listening  to  her  with  deep  attention,  as  she  breathed  a  prayer  to 
the  Most  High,  who  alone  can  give  comfort.  As  she  proceeded,  with 
beautiful  and  touching  language,  she  more  and  more  engaged  the 
attention  of  the  boy,  who,  at  the  conclusion,  arose  and  came  and 
kneeled  beside  her,  exclaiming,  "  pray  on,  for  surely  you  are  some  pure 
angel  sent  by  divine  mercy,  to  breathe  comfort  to  us  in  our  affliction." 

And  the  fountains  of  his  grief  opened,  and,  laying  his  head  upon  his 
mother's  shoulder,  he  burst  into  tears,  and  felt  relieved. 

The  remains  of  the  poor  victim  were  borne  to  their  last  resting-place, 
and  the  widowed  partner  of  his  griefs  and  joys,  gradually  faded  and 
drooped.  Then  it  was  that  this  young  girl  proved  herself  a  friend. 
Then  it  was  that  Edward's  heart  was  full  to  overflowing  with  grati- 
tude, as  her  light  form  flitted  around  the  sick-bed  of  his  mother,  with 
a  countenauce  expressive  of  her  sympathy,  as'  she  Wiped  the  cold, 
damp  moisture  from  the  pale  brow  of  the  sufferer,  or  smoothed  the 
pillow  that  she  might  lay  easier.  'Twas  in  the  midst  of  this  scene  of 
melaucholy  duty  that  those  two  young  persons  learned  to  love.  Love  ! 
What  meaning — what  power,  there  is  in  that  word.  'Twill  urge  men 
on  to  the  most  daring,  heroic  deeds — 'twill  control  the  fate  of  nations — 
'twill  drive  men  on,  with  maddening  impulse,  to  murder  and  to  self-des- 
truction— 'twill  struggle  with  the  intellect,  and  drive  reason  from  its 
throne.  But  such  love  has  a  tincture  of  selfishness  attached  to  it. 
True  love  is  the  atmosphere  that  angels  breathe — 'tis  that  halo  of 
sunny  brightness  that  shines  upon  the  soul,  and  lifts  it  from  the  depths 
of  despondency,  and  permits  it  to  soar  in  a  higher  and  purer  sphere — 
it  is  a  source  of  magnetism  that  draws  two  hearts  together,  and 
moulds  two  wishes  into  one,  and  deposits  itself  upon  the  altar  of  eter- 
nal truth,  and  there  remains,  through  all  time,  one  of  the  chief  attri- 
butes of  the  High  and  Mighty  Ruler  of  the  Universe. 

But,  to  my  story.  Some  two  months  after  the  death  of  Edward's 
father,  just  at  the  close  of  a  beautiful  day,  those  two  young  people 
were  standing  beside  the  couch,  upon  which  lay  the  dying  form  of  Mrs. 
Fay.  As  they  Stood  eagerly  watching  the  fast-fading  eye,  and  the  con- 
vulsive efforts  t  to  still  retain  the  breath — as  if  still  clinging  with  a 
tenacious  energy  to  life — she,  with  superhuman  streugth,  raised  herself 
to  a  sitting  posture,  and  seized  the  hands  of  Edward  and  Mary,  and 
clasping  them  together,  fell  back  upon  the  pillow  lifeless.  Edward's 
eyes  met  those  of  her  he  loved,  and  there  he  received  an  answer  to  his 
mother's  last  wish.     He  leant  his  Jiead  upon  her  shoulder,  and  wept. 

Having  laid  her  beside  his  departed  father,  time  gradually  softened 
his  grief,  cheered  by  the  smile  of  Mary  Manvers,  whose  father  made 
him  a  welcome  visitor  at  his  house.  He  surmised  that  they  loved  ; 
but,  as  they  had  spoken  nothing  to  him  upon  the  subject,  he  had 
remained  a  silent  spectator.  Upon  their  arrival,  Mr.  Manvers  shook 
Edward  warmly  by  the  hand.  The  reader  has,  no  doubt,  identified 
the  young  mechanic  and  the  young  girl,  with  Edward  Fay  and  Mary 
MunVcrs,  who  had  both  agreed  to  say  nothing  to  her  father,  concern- 
ing the  insult  she  had  received,  they  being  unwilling  to  cause  him  any 


THE     CHIP     BOY     OF     THE    DRY    DOCK.  51 

unnecessary  agitation.  Edward  declined  the  pressing  invitation  to 
enter,  saying,  that  he  would  call  in  the  evening,  and  took  his  way  to 
the  house  where  he  boarded,  which  was  near  at  hand. 

Reader,  we  are  about  to  introduce  you  into  the  private  room  of 
a  female.  That  female  is  the  far-famed  Mrs.  Lisle,  who  was  so  noto- 
rious during  the  period  that  we  write  of,  amongst  the  fashionable 
young  men  about  town.  There  are  two  persons  in  the  room — mother 
and  daughter.  The  former,  although  advanced  in  years,  was  still  beau- 
tiful, but  the  frequent  use  of  ardent  spirits  had  begun  its  work  of  des- 
truction. 

The  latter  was  'a  lovely  girl  of  eighteen,  moulded  in  beauty's  choicest 
fashion  ;  few  surpassed  her  in  loveliness.  Many  had  sought  to  ingra- 
tiate themselves  in  her  good  graces,  but  she  had  seen  none  yet  who 
had  made  the  least  impression  upon  her.  They  were  conversing  upon 
some  indifferent  subject,  the  daughter  looking  upon  the  pages  of  a 
book,  which  she  held  in  her  hand,  when  they  were  startled  by  a  violent 
ringing  of  the  door-bell.  Mrs.  Lisle  started  to  her  feet,  and  hastened 
to  see  what  was  the  matter.  When  she  arrived  in  the  hall,  she  beheld 
two  young  men,  greatly  intoxicated,  endeavoring  to  force  their  way 
into  the  house,  contrary  to  the  wishes  of  the  girl,  whose  duty  it  was  to 
admit  all  visitors.  One  of  them  she  knew,  for  he  had  often  called. 
Him  she  scarcely  noticed,  but  her  gaze  was  riveted  upon  the  counte- 
nance of  the  other.  There  was  something  in  that  look,  as  it  met  hers, 
that  caused  the  blood  to  recede  from  her  heart  ;  an  undefined  feeling- 
took  possession  of  her,  for  which  she  could  not  account.  Coming  to 
the  girl,  she  directed  her  to  admit  them.  She  then  spoke  to  the  girl  in 
an  under  tone — "  take  the  stranger  to  my  private  room."  And,  stop- 
ping at  the  door  of  the  common  sitting-room,  she  cried — 

"  Laura,  here's  Harry.     I  wish  you  would  take  care  of  him  !" 

When,  proceeding  to  her  own  apartment,  she — assisted  by  her 
daughter  and  the  girl — deposited  the  helpless  form  of  Frank  Seten 
upon  a  richly-embroidered  sofa. 

This  being  accomplished,  the  girl  departed,  and  the  daughter  stood 
gazing  upon  the  face  of  Frank,  with  looks  of  admiration.  She  mut- 
tered in  a  low  tone,  "  He  is  really  handsome." 

She  was  overheard  by  her  mother,  who  took  her  by  the  hand  and 
led  her  to  the  door,  saying,  "  You  had  better  retire  to  your  own  room, 
my  love,  until  this  young  man  gets  a  little  rest,  and  goes  away,  for  it 
is  no  place  for  a  young  lady  to  be." 

The  girl,  whose  name  was  Eveleen,  did  as  she  was  desired,  looking 
I  lack  as  she  left  the  apartment.  When  left  alone,  Mrs.  Lisle  took  a 
chair,  and  sat  scanning  the  features  of  the  sleeping  man.  She  could 
not  account  for  the  interest  she  felt  in  him.  It  recalled  to  her  memory 
her  early  wrongs.  Thought  crowded  on  thought,  and  as  the  insidious 
arts,  with  which  her  vile  seducer  succeeded  in  accomplishing  her  ruin, 
rushed  upon  her  mind,  she  took  a  pistol  from  the  folds  of  her  dress, 
and  touching  a  spring,  a.  dagger  started  from  ita  hidden  recess;  its 
polished  brightness  reflected  back  the  light  and  formed  itself  in  the 
shape  of  a  heart,  which  shone  full  upon  the  countenance  of  the  young 
man.     She  gazed  upon  it  in  wonder,  taking  it  for  an  omen  that  he 


52  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

would  co-operate  in  her  obtaining  her  long*  desired  revenge,  she 
uttered  in  a  low  voice,  "  His  hour  will  come.7' 

While  those  thoughts  were  passing  through  her  brain,  Frank,  who 
had  awakened,  and  seeing  a  pistol  within  a  foot  of  his  head,  started  to 
his  feet,  bewildered,  crying,  "  What !  would  you  murder  me  ?"  then, 
hurriedly  looking  around,  he  continued,  "  Where  am  I?" 

Mrs.  Lisle,  laying  her  hand  upon  his  arm,  said,  "Be  seated  I  pray, 
there  is  no  harm  intended  to  you." 

M  What  means  that  pistol  V*  inquired  Frank,  again  taking  his 
seat. 

"There  is  a  certain  something  in  your  look  that  recalled  occur- 
rences which  happened  long  years  gone  by,  wherein  a  poor  silly  girl 
.was  imposed  upon  and  deluded  from  the  path  of  rectitude,  whereby 
her  ruin  was  accomplished  by  a  villain.  But  the  injuries  of  that  lost 
girl  (lost  to  virtue),  burn  as  fresh  at  her  heart,  and  the  desire  for 
revenge  is  as  strong,  as  it  was  the  hour  when  she  discovered  his 
baseness.'7 

"  That  girl  is  yourself  ?"  queried  Frank. 

"  It  is." 

"  By  Heavens  !  he  must  be  a  villain  who  would  do  so  dastardly 
an  act.  Pray,  what  was  the  name  of  your  seducer,  if  I  may  make 
so  bold  ?" 

"  Grafton,  Charles  Grafton." 

"  Grafton,  Grafton,  I  do  not  think  that  I  ever  have  known  a  person 
by  that  name,"  replied  Frank. 

"  Then,  I  am  mistaken  ;  but  tell  me  who  was  your  father." 

"  I  never  knew  my  father.  He  died  abroad  while  in  my  infancy,  I 
being  adopted  by  a  friend  of  his,  by  the  name  of  Hastings,"  said 
Frank,  with  his  usual  duplicity.     "  George  Hastings,  at  your  service." 

"  Would  that  you  would  be  at  my  service,  and  assist  me  to  obtain 
the  cherished  desire  of  my  life,  that  which  is  consuming  me  daily  with 
its  fires." 

"  Pray,  what  is  that,  madam,"  asked  Frank  ? 

"  Revenge,"  cried  Mrs.  Lisle,  nervously  grasping  the  pistol,  and 
shaking  it. 

11  By  Heavens,  I  will  do  all  in  my  power  to  enable  you  to  attain  it," 
said  Frank. 

11  Say  you  so.  Then  let  us  swear  to  aid  each  other,  and  form  a 
compact/ whereby  one  can  call  upon  the  other  for  assistance  to  subdue 
our  enemies." 

Frank  paused  to  reflect  for  a  moment,  when  the  thought  occurred 
to  him,  that  this  woman  might,  at  some  future  time,  be  of  use  to  him, 
and  coming  to  the  conclusion  to  consent  to  her  proposition,  he  cried, 
"  Agreed." 

"  You  are  willing  V  replied  she. 

"  I  am." 

"  Then  swear  upon  this  pistol,  with  me,  to  aid  each  other,  when 
called  upon." 

Then,  holding  the  pistol  up,  they  both  cried,  "I  swear,"  in  the 
same  breath. 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  53 

She  then  deposited  the  weapon  in  its  hiding-place,  where  it  had  been 
worn  for  years,  ready  for  the  destruction  of  her  victim,  should  he  by 
chance  be  thrown  in  her  way.     Then  addressing  Frank — 

"  Remember  the  name,  Grafton.  Should  you  be  fortunate  enough 
to  meet  with  auy  person  answering  to  it,  acquaint  me  with  the  same. 
In  the  meantime  finish  your  nap,  from  which  I  disturbed  you.  You 
are  safe  in  this  room  ;  none  dare  enter  here  without  my  bidding." 

Thus  saying,  she  left  the  apartment,  closing  the  door  after  her. 

Frank  lay  down  again,  and  laughingly  observed,  M  How  easy  'tis  to 
gull  a  woman.  She  thinks  now,  that  she  has  enlisted  a  powerful  ally 
in  her  cause.  Well — well,  I  always  have  thought,  and  think  still,  that 
women  were  made  expressly,  to  have  the  wool  pulled  over  their  eyes," 
saying  this,  he  composed  himself  for  a  comfortable  sleep. 

He  had  not  long  lain  quietly  there,  when  he  observed  the  door  slowly 
open,  and  a  female  form  stealthily  enter.  'Twas  Evcleen,  •  who 'had 
observed  her  mother  pass  down  the  stairway,  when  she  left  her  room, 
and  entered  that  in  which  Frank  Seten  lay. 

Upon  her  entrance,  Frank  lay  still,  pretending  to  be  asleep,  intending 
to  watch  her  proceedings. 

Eveleen  advanced  to  where  he  lay,  gazing  upon  his  face  with  admir- 
ing looks.  She  gently  touched  his  cheek  with  her  wrhite  hand,  "  How 
soft  and  delicate,"  she  murmured,  and  looking  around  to  assure  herself 
that  she  was  unobserved,  she  inclined  her  beautiful  form  forward,  until 
her  face  was  on  a  level  with  his,  and  lightly  touching  his  cheek  with 
her  lips,  she  hastily  stole  from  them  a  kiss. 

Frank  sprang  up,  and  seizing  her  by  the  hand  cried,  "  Am  I  already 
in  Paradise,  or  why  am  I  permitted  to  gaze  on  such  loveliness  for  a 
moment,  and  then  have  it  torn  for  ever  from  my  sight  ?" 

11  Hush  !"  cried  Eveleen,  "  ray  mother  may  hear  you." 

"  By  heavens  !"  continued  Frank,  "  I  could  dwell  in  a  wilderness,  far 
from  the  haunts  of  men,  contented,  had  I  but  one  fair  being  such  as 
thee,  to  share  my  loneliness.  I  feel  a  fluttering  around  my  heart,  such 
as  I  never  felt  before  in  the  presence  of  a  woman.  Can  it  be  love,  if 
so,  wilt  thou  exchange  it  for  thine,  gentle  girl  ?" 

"  Willingly  would  I  do  so,  but  a  harder  fate  is  mine." 

"  Say  not  so  ;  pray  explain,"  cried  Frank. 

Eveleen  hurriedly  related  to  him,  that  early  in  life  her  mother  had 
been  deserted  by  her  destroyer,  and  left  upon  the  streets  without  a 
shelter.  That  she  had  been  aided  by  a  gentleman,  who  had  proved  her 
friend  hitherto  ;  it  wras  to  his  bounty  that  she  owed  the  means  to  keep 
the  establishment,  iu  which  they  were  at  the  present  moment,  and  I  am 
to  be  the  reward  which  he  claims  at  the  hands  of  my  mother.  He  is 
old  and  married,  with  a  family  of  grown  up  children  ;  were  he  young 
and  single,  I  would  not  feel  that  repugnance  which  causes  me  always 
to  shudder,  when  he  approaches  me.     Oh  !  how  I  detest  him. 

"  It  shall  not  be.  Say  pretty  one,  will  you  be  mine  ?"  cried  Frank, 
11  if  you  will,  I  will  rob  the  toothless  old  dotard,  and  save  a  mother 
the  committing  of  a. crime,  unequalled  at  the  present  day  in  brutality, 
that  of  sacrificing  the  virtue  of  her  child  for  gold  ;  ugh  !  the  thought 
makes  me  sick.     When  claims  he  his  reward  ?" 


54  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

"  I  know  not,"  replied  she. 

"  Say,  dearest,"  said  Frank,  gently  placing  her  upon  the  sofa  beside 
him,  "  can  you  love  me  ?" 

Eveleen  replied  blushing,  "  I  already  love  you,  sir,  and  willingly 
would  I  link  my  fate  with  yours,  were  I  permitted.  But  I  fear  it 
cannot  be." 

"  By  heavens  it  can  and  will  !  it  remains  with  yourself ;  here  take 
this  card,  my  name  is  upon  it.  The  name  that  I  gave  your  mother 
was  a  fictitious  one  ;  whenever  I  call  address  me  by  the  name  of 
George  Hastings.  Should  you  have  occasion,  fly  to  me.  I  never  saw 
a  woman  before,  that  I  could  feel  the  tender  passion  of  love  for.  As 
soon  as  I  can  arrange  matters,  I  will  make  you  my  wife,  and  take  you 
from  this  den  of  iniquity,"  Frank  concluded,  by  imprinting  a  kiss  upon 
her  fait  brow.  Then  added,  "  You  had  better  depart,  lest  your  mother 
observing  us  together,  may  mar  our  plan." 

Eveleen  did  as  she  was  desired,  leaving  Frank  once  more  alone,  who 
threw  himself  upon  the  sofa,  his  thoughts  full  of  the  beautiful  girl  who 
had  just  left  him.  He  thus  reasoned  with  himself  :  should  my  father 
place  any  obstacle  in  the  way,  or  show  any  opposition  to  my  marrying 
this  fair  creature,  I  have  wit  enough  to  surmount  every  difficulty,  and 
accomplish  my  end.  What  an  angel  of  beauty  !  he  murmured,  and  he 
fell  into  a  doze,  dreaming  of  her,  from  which  he  was  aroused  by  Mrs. 
Lisle,  who  came  to  inform  him  that  his  companion  was  in  the  parlor 
awaiting  him. 

He  sprang  from  the  sofa,  and  descended  to  the  room  below  in  her 
company.  Upon  his  entrance  he  was  accosted  by  Courtland,  who 
informed  him,  that  he  was  appointed  as  a  committee  of  one  by  the  girls, 
to  acquaint  him,  that  as  this  was  his  first  visit  to  the  house  (he,  Frank),- 
being  a  stranger,  it  was  his  unpleasant  duty  to  tell  him  that  he  must 
pay  his  footing. 

This  speech  was  received  with  a  burst  of  laughter  by  all  present. 

Frank  willingly  complied,  and  calling  for  champagne,  his  health  was 
drank  by  all  ;  when  taking  Harry  by  the  arm,  they  left  the  room  and 
entered  the  hall  where  they  encountered  the  landlady,  who  whispered 
in  Frank's  ear  as  he  passed  close  to  her — "  Remember  the  oath."  They 
then  left  the  house. 

Upon  the  day  appointed  for  the  meeting  of  the  young  couple,  Mr. 
Manvers  was  seated  with  his  daughter,  in  the  little  parlour  in 
Eldridge  Street,  awaiting  the  arrival  of  their  guests.  Mr,  Manvers 
had  acquainted  Mary  with  what  had  taken  place  concerning  her,  in 
reference  to  Frank.  She  had  candidly  informed  her  father  of  her  love 
for  the  young  ship  carpenter,  meeting  no  opposition  to  her  wishes, 
on  the  contrary,  her  choice  was  applauded  by  her  parent,  who  informed 
Mary  that  he  had  great  faith  in  her  judgment,  but  at  the  same  time  say- 
ing that  Edward  Fay  was  a  noble  young  man. 

George  Seten  and  his  son  soon  arrived  ;  upon  entering  the  parlour, 
Manvers  and  Mary  arose  to  receive  them  ;  what  was  the  confusion  of 
Frank,  to  behold  in  Mary  Manvers  the  young  lady  who  he  had  so 
grossly  insulted  in  the  street,  a  few  days  previous.  He  stammered 
something  unintelligible  about  a  mistake,  when  Mary  looking  at  him 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  55 

with  contempt  exclaimed,  "  we  have  met  before  sir,"  and  sweeping 
haughtily  past  him,  left  the  room. 

George  Seten  looked  at  his  son  and  inquired  the  meaning,  who  told  him 
that  he  would  inform  him*  at  another  time  ;  they  soon  took  their  depar- 
ture and  left  the  house.  On  their  way  homeward,  Frank  informed  his 
father  the  cause  of  Miss  Manvers'  behaviour  towards  him. 

George  Seten  appeared  nervous,  starting  at  every  noise  which  sud- 
denly came  to  his  ear  ;  ever  and  anon,  looking  back  as  if  dreading  pur- 
suit. His  strange  conduct  attracted  the  attention  of  his  son,  who 
inquired  what  was  the  matter  with  him. 

"  Frank,  if  you  only  knew  how  much  was  at  stake,  by  your  causing 
this  rupture  with  the  Manvers  family,  and  the  breaking  o£f  of  the 
match  between  you  and  the  daughter,  you  would  not  wonder  at  my 
agitation." 

From  that  day  Seten  was  an  altered  man,  he  seldom  left  his  own 
house  ;  when  he  did,  his  strange  conduct  was  noticed  by  all  who  met 
him.  He  had  began  to  feel  the  punishment  due  to  his  crimes,  which 
will  sooner  or  later  come  upon  all  who  step  from  the  path  of  honor  to 
attain  their  objects  in  this  world. 

Cut  off  from  the  only  hope  of  security,  he  was  in  continual  dread. 
How  bitterly  did  he  repent  of  his  villainy  to  Mr.  Graham  and  his 
daughter,  and  a  shudder  ran  through  his  frame  as  he  thought  of  the 
death  of  the  former.  We  will  leave  him  for  the  present  fighting  that 
terrible  battle  of  conscience,  with  the  dread  of  the  future  rising  con- 
tinually before  him,  searing  his  brain  with  its  burning  fires,  and  making 
a  hell  on  earth. 


56  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

As  the  winter  passed  away  the  health  of  Mr.  Manvers  rapidly  gave 
way  ;  he  was  so  far  gone  at  the  commencement  of  spring,  that  he  was  un- 
able to  rise  in  his  bed  without  assistance  ;  Jenny,  the  faithfal  Jenny, 
tended  upon  him  with  all  the  care  of  a  mother,  relieving  Mary  in  her 
watch  upon  the  sufferer.  The  malady  of  Tommy  had  grown  upon  him  as 
he  grew  in  years,  he  became  more  idiotic  and  simple,  yet  particularly 
harmless,  with  the  exception  of  his '  tricks  upon  the  boys  of  his 
neighborhood,  to  whom  he  was  a  terror — they  termed  him  the  Crazy 
Man.  He  would  absent  himself  for  days  from  his  home  without  causing 
any  uneasiness  to  his  friends,  who  saw  it  was  useless  to  endeavour  to 
control  him  in  his  waywardness,  and  finding  that  no  harm  came  to  him, 
they  had  come  to  the  conclusion  to  let  him  have  his  own  way. 

One  afternoon,  in  the  beginning  of  spring,  the  sun  was  shining  brightly 
in  at  the  window  ;  Mary  Manvers  stood  with  Edward  beside  the  bed 
of  her  dying  father  ;  on  the  opposite  side  was  standing  Jenny  Craigie, 
moaniug  piteously. 

Mr.  Manvers  with  great  effort  addressed  her  in  the  following  words, 
"  Faithful  woman,  do  not  mourn  for  me,  we  must  all  submit  to  the 
decrees  of  Him  who  rules  us  all  ;  you  have  done  your  duty  to  me  and 
mine,  and  may  you  receive  your  reward  for  it  on  High. 

"  Edward,  to  you,  and  you  too,  my  daughter,  I  leave  the  duty  of  pro- 
tecting this  faithful  person,  as  old  age  advances  upon  her,  rendering  her 
incapable  of  braving  the  storms  of  this  life.77  And  placing  the  hand  of 
his  daughter  in  that  of  Edward,  he  continued,  "  I  would  say  a  word  to 
you  ;  let  not  my  death  prevent  your  union  from  taking  place  at  the 
time  appointed,  for  you  will  be  alone  in  the  world,  all  and  all  to  each 
other.  Society  in  its  busy  round  of  cares  and  pleasure,  has  but  little 
time  to  sympathise  with  the  lonely  mourner.  Seek  not,  nor  trust  not  too 
much  upon  obtaining  real  happiness  upon  this  earth  ;  that  alone  can  be 
obtained  in  heaven,  all  other  is  but  vanity,  and  will  fade  away  as  the 
setting  sun  will  vauish  from  the  sight  behind  some  hill,  leaving  the 
world  more  dark  and  dreary.  I  find  my — myself  grow  weaker — a  dim 
hazy  shadow — comes  before — my  eyes, — farewell — farewell — all  ;  God 
bless  you  all.77 

William  Manvers'  was  no  more  ;  grief,  heartfelt  grief  reigned  in  the 
hearts  of  all  present  ;  such  grief  as  buries  itself  in  secret,  to  mourn 
unobserved  by  the  rude  gaze  of  the  world  ;  such  grief  as  we  will  respect 
and  leave  in  its  loneliness  to  be  subdued  alone  by  time. 

We  will  pass  over  a  space  of  some  two  weeks.  Miss  Manvers  sat 
leaning  her  head  upon  her  hand  in  a  pensive  attitude,  gazing  upon 
vacancy.     She  was  in  deep  mourning,  her  face  was  very  pale,  a  tear 


THE  CHTP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  57 

drop  stood  upon  her  cheek,  which  gave  evident  signs  that  she  had 
recently  been  weeping.  Stern  must  be  the  heart  of  the  person  that 
could  look  upon  that  fair  countenance  without  feeling  a  touch  of 
sympathy.  So  sad,  so  dejected  was  that  face,  it  too  plainly  told  that 
grief  had  early  touched  her  young  heart.  She  was  aroused  from  her 
re  very  by  a  knock  at  the  door;  she  started  and  rose  to  her  feet,  when 
Tommy  Craigie  entered  ;  he  had  several  toys  in  his  hand,  amongst 
which  was  one  of  those  artificial  snakes  composed  of  wire  springs, 
covered  with  canvass  and  painted,  showing  the  fangs  and  eyes  of  a 
bright  red  color,  giving  it  an  appearance  so  lifelike,  that  at  first  sight, 
it  would  startle  the  beholder. 

As  he  entered,  he  was  singing  the  following  lines  from  an  old 
ballad  : — 

"  A  famous  man  was  Robin  Hood, 
The  English  ballad-singers'  joy ; 
But  Scotland  boasts  a  thief  as  good. 
She  has,  she  has  a  Tommy  boy.--* 

As  he  concluded,  he  took  a  tin  horn  from  under  his  arm,  and  putting 
it  to  his  lips,  he  blew  loudly,  at  the  same  time  marching  around  the 
room. 

"  Tommy,  Tommy,  do  cease  your  untimely  mirth  ;  my  head  aches 
violently/'  said  Miss  Manvers. 

Tommy  paused  immediately  in  front  of  her,  and  gazing  with  a 
sorrowful  look  into  her  face,  said,  "Did  I  annoy  my  bird  of  Paradise  ? 
well,  crazy  Tom  won't  do  so  any  more." 

"  Where  did  you  get  those  things  ?"  asked  Mary.  , 

"  I've  been  speculating." 

"  Been  speculating  ;  Tommy,  what  mean  you  V 

'•  There  is  a  parcel  of  boys,  who  are  always  playing  over  there  by 
that  open  lot.  Whenever  I  go  by  them  they  throw  stones  at  me,  and 
call  me  hard  names.  As  I  was  coming  past  them,  a  little  while  ago, 
1  saw  them  all  sitting  down  close  together ;  I  came  softly  up  to  them, 
and  saw  what  they  were  at.  Now  what  do  you  think  they  were 
at  ?" 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  was  the  reply. 

11  Don't  know  !  well  I  will  tell  you — they  were  gambling." 

"  Gambling  !" 

**  Gambling  !   wasn't  that  horrid  ?" 

"  Indeed  it  was,  to  commence  the  vices  of  life  at  such  an  early 
age." 

"  I  thought  so  too,  and  I  being  of  a  speculative  turn  of  mind,  as  I 
stood  watching  them,  I  thought  that  such  habits  would  lead  them  to 
the  gallows,  so  I  pounced  upon  them  and  seized  these  things,  and  ran 
away  ;  wasn't  that  a  good  speculation  ?" 

"  What  were  they  gambling  with,  Tommy  ?" 

"  Pushing  pins,  ma'am." 

"  Oh  !  fie,  Tommy." 

At  this  moment  a  knock  was  again  heard  at  the  door. 


58  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

"  See  who  is  at  the  door  :  and  then  go  and  return  to  the  little  boys 
their  playthings/'  said  Mary. 

Tommy  started  sullenly 'to  obey  her  orders.  Miss  Manvers  again 
resumed  her  seat.  Tommy  soon  returned;  approaching  his  mistress, 
and  bowing  profoundly  he  said, 

"  His  cloven-footed  majesty,  Mr.  Satan,  desires  admittance."' 

"  What  !  whom  do  you  mean  P  exclaimed  the  young  lady. 

"  Why,  I  mean  that  Mr.  Seten  desires  to  see  you." 

"  Admit  him." 

Tommy,  obeying  the  orders  that  he  had  received,  ushered  Mr. 
Frank  Seten  into  the  room. 

Miss  Manvers  rose  at  his  entrance,  coldly  requesting  him  to  be 
seated,  at  the  same  time  bidding  Tommy  to  leave  the  room. 

As  the  idiot  was  about  to  depart,  he  looked  back  ;  and,  seeing  that 
he  was  not  observed,  adroitly  slipped  behind  a  large  book-case, 
which  entirely  concealed  him  from  view. 

"  To  what  am  I  indebted  for  the  honor  of  this  visit  ?"  asked  Miss 
Manvers. 

"  Can  you  ask,  my  dear  young  lady,  when  you  well  know  how  long  I 
have  loved  you,  your  friendless  situation  has  induced  me  to  offer  you 
my  hand  and  heart,  hoping  that  my  offer  will  be  accepted,  and  by 
so  doing,  make  me  the  happiest  of  men." 

"  Rather  say,  sir,  that  my  friendless  situation  has  emboldened  you 
to  insult  me.  I  would  not  listen  to  your  overtures  nor  favor  your 
suit  during  the  life  of  my  father,  nor  will  I  now.  I  am  not  as  friend- 
less as  you  suppose." 

Frank  Seten  hit  his  lip,  and  observed,  "  You  have  some  other 
suitor,  perchance.  May  I  make  so  bold  as  to  inquire  who  the  favored 
lover  is  ?" 

"Insulting,"  remarked  Mary,  and  she  turned  and  gazed  from  the 
window,  as  if  determined  to  hold  no  farther  converse  with  him  ;  but 
suddenly  altering  her  mind,  she  turned  and  confronted  him  ;  she 
added, 

"  I  will  be  candid  with  you,  hoping  that  it  will  prevent  any  further 
discussion  upon  a  subject  that  is  displeasing  to  me.  I  do  love  another, 
one  whose  nobleness  of  heart  the  proudest  maiden  of  the  land  might 
be  honored  in  aspiring  to  love.     That  other  is  Edward  Fay." 

"  Ha  !  the  man  I  hate  and  detest  the  most  on  earth,"  he  muttered 
in  a  low  tone.  Then,  speaking  aloud,  he  continued,  "And  will  the 
beautiful  and  gifted  Miss  Manvers,  who  is  formed  to  grace  the  highest 
circles  and  be  the  very  leader  of  fashion,  coolly  and  deliberately  cast 
wealth,  grandeur,  and  admiration  from  her,  to  dwell  in  obscurity  with 
a  base-born  mechanic  ?" 

Mary  Manvers  arose,  her  countenance  glowing  with  wounded  pride 
and  indignation,  she  approached  one  step  towards  him,  and  made  the 
following  reply  : 

"  He  is  not  base-born,  sir  ;  his  ancestors  died  upon  the  battle  field 
contending  for  freedom^  rights.  An  honest  working-man,  a  mechanic, 
is  stamped  with  that  true  patent  of  nobility  that  is  given  by  the  great 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  59 

Architect  of  Xature.  He  is  a  source  of  wealth  to  his  country. 
Behold  our  railroads,  our  public  buildings,  our  noble  shipping,  which 
are  the  envy  of  the  world.  Could  these  have  been  achieved  without 
him.  Wheree'er  the  star-spangled  banner  is  seen  to  wave  o'er  this 
great  continent,  or  the  cry  of  liberty  is  heard  by  the  people  of  ©ur 
couutry,  there  is  the  working-man  seen  foremost  in  the  rauks,  ready  to 
maintain  her  rights  or  advance  her  trade.  Should  dread  war  once 
more  hover  o'er  our  land,  with  its  ravaging  blight,  our  young  mecha- 
nics would'  be  the  first  to  rush  forth  to  the  scene  of  action,  and  show 
the  daring  foe  that  they  were  ready  to  stand  up  in  defence  of  their 
homes  and  firesides,  and  fight  as  bravely  as  those  heroes  did  at 
Bunker  Hill  and  Yorktown,  where  the  brave  Warren  fell,  and  the 
immortal  Washington  nobly  stood  forth  in  a  nation's  cause,  and  per- 
formed those  deeds  which  covered  him  with  laurels,  leaving  a  bright 
example,  that  will  remain  in  the  hearts  of  his  countrymen,  until  time 
be  no  more.  .  What  though  he  be  despised,  as  he  returns  from  his 
daily  toil,  by  the  purse-proud  man  of  wealth  ;  that  man  with  all  his 
gold  has  never  experienced  one  particle  of  pleasure  equal  to  that 
which  glows  within  the  workman's  bosom,  as  he  enters  his  humble 
home,  to  be  met  by  a  beloved  mother,  a  smiling  wife,  his  pratlers 
clinging  to  him,  each  anxious  to  be  kissed  in  turn;  his  heart  expands, 
as  the  feeling  comes  o'er  him,  that  he  is  a  useful  member  of  society, 
and  a  prayer  rises  to  his  lips  in  humble  thanks  to  the  Great  Creator, 
for  giving  him  strength  to  do  his  duty.  Leave  me,  sir,  I  wish  to  be 
alone." 

How  noble  did  that  fair  creature  appear,  as  with  heightened  color 
and  extended  arm  she  boldly  defended  her  absent  lover. 

Frank  Setcn  arose,  and  was  about  to  reply,  when  our  friend  Tommy, 
who  had  left  his  place  of  concealment,  approached  him,  and,  putting 
the  horn  to  his  ear,  "blew  a  sudden  blast. 

Seten  started,  and  turning,  was  horrified  at  beholding  a  serpent, 
with  its  glaring  eyes,  within  a  few  inches  of  his  head.  He  retreated 
towards  the  door  ;  but,  on  discovering  that  he  had  been  tricked  by  an 
idiot,  he  cast  a  withering  glance  of  hate  at  him.  Then,  turning  to 
Mary,  with  a  countenance  portraying  the  demoniacal  rage  that  boiled 
within,  he  uttered  the  word,  "  beware,"  and  hastily  left  the  house. 

Tommy  danced  and  capered  around  the  room,  highly  delighted  with 
his  little  stratagem.  Miss  Manvers  sank  into  a  chair,  scarcely  able  to 
suppress  a  smile,  at  the  fright  of  her  persecutor  and  the  antics  of 
Tommy. 

At  this  juncture,  the  door  again  opened  suddenly,  and  Jennie 
Craigie  entered  the  room,  with  a  basket  on  her  arm.  Grazing  first  at 
her  mistress,  then  at.  her  son,  hastily  pulling  her  shoe  from  her  foot, 
she  ran  at  Tommy,  belaboring  him  over  the  head  and  shoulders,  at  the 
same  time,  exclaiming — 

11  Ma  certie,  I  canna  gang  frae  the  house  yene  minit,  but  yer  play- 
ing some  o'  yer  deevil's  tricks,  and  disturbing  your  young  leddy." 

Tommy,  who  was  under  great  fear  of  his  parent,  made  for  the  door, 
through  which  he  hastily  made  his  escape. 


60  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

Jenny  turned  to  her  mistress,  and,  replacing  her  shoe  in  its  proper 
place,  inquired  of  her  what  pranks  he  had  been  playing  on  her, 
adding — 

"  Ye  must  na'  mind  him,  my  leddy,  for  he  is  beside  himself  at  times." 

"  Dear  nurse,  you  are  laboring  under  a  slight  mistake.  Tommy  has 
rendered  me  a  particular  service, — he  has  relieved  me  of  a  troublesome 
visitor.     But  how  did  you  succeed  on  your  errand?" 

"  Not  vaery  weel,  leddy.  Mr.  Brown  complained  very  much  o'  the 
bit  wark,  but,  after  a  deal  of  grumbling,  he  paid  me.  But>  he  told 
me  to  tell  ye,  that  he  wad  na'  want  na'  more  'til  next  week.  I  called 
in  a  deal  o'  shops,  but  could  get  nothing  promised  afore  next  time." 

"  Oh,  and  will  I  be  idle  until  then?"  exclaimed  Miss  Man  vers. 
"  What  will  become  of  us  ?" 

"  Dinna  fear,  my  leddy,"  cried  Jenuy.  "  I  ha'  been  thinking  that 
ye'  wark  too  hard  for  us  a',  and  ye1  must  remember,  that  I  am  strong, 
an#  have  nothing  to  do,  but  take  care  o'  the  house,  and  ye'  see  if  yer' 
leddyship  wad  allow  me,  I  could  turn  a  penny  by  taking  some  wash- 
ing, or  something  o'  that  kind  ye  see." 

The  faithful  Jenny  was' interrupted  in  her  plans  by  the  entrance  of 
Edward  Fay. 

Approaching  Mary,  who  rose  and  warmly  welcomed  him,  he  drew 
a  chair,  and  they  both  seated  themselves — Edward  still  retaining  her 
hand  in  his,  at  the  same  time  nodding  to  Jenny,  and  kindly  asked  after 
her  health. 

"  I'm  vaery  weel,  wi'  the  blessings  o'  God,  Master  Edward,"  and, 
courtesying,  she  left  the  room,  thinking,  perhaps,  that  there  was  one 
too  many  present. 

Let  us  follow  her  example,  dear  reader,  aud  leave  them  to  converse 
with  that  freedom  in  which  lovers  can  indulge  best  in  private. 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  61 


CHAPTER  X. 

When  young  Seten  left  the  house  of  Miss  Manvers,  he  proceeded 
homeward,  bursting  with  rage,  and  forming  in  his  mind  some  plan  of 
revenge.  When  within  a  few  paces  of  his  own  residence  he  was 
accosted  by  a  boy  who  appeared  to  have  been  watching  for  him.  The 
boy  inquired  if  his  name  was  Hastings.  Frank  nodded  assent.  "  Here 
is  a  note  for  you,  sir,  which  Mr.  Biglow  the  druggist,  gave  me  to 
bring  to  you."  Frank  received  it,  and  gave  the  boy  a  trifle,  who  ran 
off.  Seten  had  arranged  with  the  aforementioned  gentleman  to  receive 
any  letters  that  should  be  left  at  his  store,  addressed  to  him  under  the 
assumed  name  of  Hastings,  and  have  them  forwarded  to  him.  On 
perusing  the  note,  he  paused  for  a  moment,  and  muttering,  in  a  low 
tone,  "  I  suppose  I  must  see  her," — changed  the  direction  -in  which  he 
was  walking,  and  took  his  way  to  Lispenard  street.  During  the  win- 
ter, the  Seten  family  had  removed  to  Bond  street,  that  world  of 
fashion.  Their  new  building  having  been  .completed,  George  Seten 
became  more  morose  and  nervous,  never  leaving  the  house  except  by 
night,  when  he  would  ramble  through  the  streets,  peering  into  the  faces 
of  the  passers-by,  as  if  in  search  of  some  particular  person. 

On  the  evening  previous  to  that  on  which  we  again  bring  him  before 
our  readers,  as  he  was  passing  through  Broadway,  in  the  neighborhood 
of  White  street — 'twas  near  the  hour  of  eleven — the  night  being  dark 
and  rather  chilly,  few  people  were  abroad — he  was  confronted  by  a 
female,  closely  muffled  in  a  wrapper,  who  presenting  a  pistol  at  his 
head,  exclaiming — "  We  have  met  at  last,"  fired  at  him,  and  darted 
down  White  street,  and  was  soon  lost  in  the  darkness.  Old  Seten  fell 
to  the  ground,  slightly  wounded.  Owing  to  the  agitation  of  the  woman, 
or  the  darkness  of  the  night,  the  intended  shot  did  not  take  effect — 
it  merely  grazed  his  shoulder,  making  a  slight  incision  in  the  flesh.  On 
finding  himself  but  little  injured,  he  rose  from  the  sidewalk,  and  looked 
around,  but  not  a  living  object  met  his  view.  He  shuddered  at  his 
narrow  escape,  and  hastily  took  his  way  homeward,  in  a  state  of  agita- 
tion bordering  on  insanity.  Before  arriving  at  his  residence,  his  whole 
evil  life  had  risen  before  him.  Each  person  that  he  had  wronged  had 
passed  before  his  sight  in  panoramic  view,  with  some  instrument  of 
destruction  ready  to  hurl  at  him,  and  breathing  vengeance  upon  him. 
lie,  upon  conjecturing  in  his  mind  who  the  woman  could  be  who  had 
attempted  his  life,  came  to  the  conclusion,  that,  if  the  girl  lived  whom 
he  had  so  deeply  injured  early  in  life,  it  could  be  no  other  than  she. 
There,  thought  he,  is  another  enemy  to  dread,  who  might  way-lay  and 
pounce  upon  me  at  any  moment.  Whom  could  he  trust  ?  He  feared 
all.     And,  as  he  arrived  at  his  own  door,  his  guilty  mind  had  come  to 


62  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

the  conclusion,  to  keep  secret  the  occurrence,  lest  it  would  lead  to 
inquiry  ;  for,  a  guilty  conscience  makes  cowards  of  the  stoutest  and 
boldest  hearts. 

The  female  had  paused  for  an  instant  witkin  the  darkness  of  an  arch, 
for  the  purpose  of  witnessing  the  effect  of  her  shot.  As  she  saw  him 
rise  and  depart,  she  muttered — "  Curses  on  him  !  he  has  escaped  me 
this  time,  but  I  will  not  be  foiled  in  my  revenge.  I  will  yet  make  him 
bite  the  dust,  and  trample  upon  his  accursed  carcase  f  and  she  rapidly 
departed,  to  avoid  some  intoxicated  young  men,  who  were  coming  up 
the  street,  singing. 

When  young  Seten  rang  the  bell  at  the  door  of  Mrs.  Lisle,  in  Lis- 
penard  street,  he  was  received  by  that  personage  herself,  who 
appeared  greatly  agitated.  She  bade  him  follow  her,  and  conducted 
him  to  her  private  room.     When  they  were  seated,  she  exclaimed — 

"  I  have  seen  him,  George.     I  have  seen  him  !" 

"  Who  Y'  cried  Seten. 

"  Charles  Grafton,  the  accursed  wretch  !  I  went  Out  last  evening, 
upon  some  business  of  a  private  nature.  As  I  was  returning  home,  at 
a  late  hour,  I  observed  a  man  passing  up  the  street  immediately  in 
front  of  me,  whose  strange  behaviour  attracted  my  attention.  I  has- 
tened my  pace,  and,  passing  a-head  of  him,  turning  to  observe  his 
countenance,  I  saw  by  the  light  of  a  lamp,  which  cast  its  rays  upon  his 
figure,  the  hated  face  of.  my  destroyer.  With  what  a  savage  delight  I 
grasped  my  long-hidden  treasure,  and  drew  it  from  the  folds  of  my 
dress.  Gazing  around,  I  saw  that  the  streets  were  deserted.  I  fired 
upon  him — he  fell.  Darting  down  one  of  the  dark  streets,  I  paused 
and  looked  back.  I  observed  him  rise,  and  make  his  way  from  the 
spot.  I  cursed  myself  for  my  failure,  and  hastened  home.  But  now 
that  I  am  certain  that  he  lives,  and  is  dwelling  in  the  same  city  with 
myself,  I  will  not  rest  till  I  work  his  destruction. " 

Her  countenance  appeared  hideous  to  Frank,  as  she,  in  her  rage  and 
hate,  breathed  curses  upon  him  she  would  slay. 

"  He  lives  in  this  city,  and  by  our  compact,  you  are  bound  to 
aid  me." 

"  Would  you  have  me  murder  him  Yf  asked  Frank. 

"  No  ; .  that  would  be  robbing  me  of  my  revenge.  I  would  do  that 
with  mine  own  hand,  and  witness  the  agonized  writhings  of  his  polluted 
form,  as  it  lay  weltering  in  his  evil  blood.  I'd  place  my  foot  upon  his 
body  and  crush  it,  as  his  depraved  and  deformed  soul  took  its  flight 
down  to  the  receptacle,  that  has  been  formed  by  a  just  God,  to  punish 
such  as  he.  I  would  have  you  trace  him  out,  acquaint  me  of  his 
whereabouts.  I  wish  to  know  his  residence,  that  I  may  watch  for  him 
and  dog  his  footsteps,  so  that  when  an  opportunity  may  occur,  I  may 
fulfil  my  long-cherished  desire." 

As  she  concluded,  she  approached  a  side-board,  and  pouring  out  a 
glass  of  brandy  from  a  decanter  that  was  standing  upon  it,  drank  it  off, 
at  the  same  time,  inviting  Frank  to  partake,  who  declined. 

When  she  had  again  seated  herself,  Frank  asked  where  Eveleen  was. 

Mrs.  Lisle  informed  him,  that  she  had  gone  out  to  purchase  some 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  63 

few  articles,  of  which  she  stood  in  need,  and  had  not  yet  returned. 
Frank  promised  to  comply  with  her  wishes,  and  soon  took  his  departure. 

Upon  his  arrival  home,  he  sought  out  his  father,  and  seating  himself 
near  him,  he  addressed  him  in  the  following  strain.  **  My  dear  father — 
since  by  your  adopting  me,  you  have  given  me  the  right  to  address  you 
by  that  title — I  have  endeavored  through  life,  hitherto,  to  obey  your 
wishes.  Some  few  months  previous,  one  day  while  lecturing  me  upon 
my  loose  habits,  you  mentioned'  that  you  would  have  me  marry  and 
become  settled  ;  you  desired  me  to  form  an  alliance  with  Miss  Manvers, 
but  that,  as  you  know,  fell  through  ;  I  am  now  ready  and  willing 
to  fulfill  your  wishes  ;  I  have  found  a  lady,  who  I  think,  .has  it  in  her 
power  to  make  me  happy." 

11  Who  is  the  fair  one  ?"  inquired  his  father. 

"  Some  few  weeks  since,"  replied  Frank,  "  I  became  acquainted  with 
her,  when  being  in  her  company  one  evening,  she  informed  me  that  she 
was  shortly  to  be  married,  but  that  it  was  against  her  will,  her 
intended  bridegroom  being  many  years  her  senior,  but  that  her  only 
parent,  her  mother,  compelled  her  to  wed  him,  on  account  of  his  worldly 
wealth.  I  already  loved  her,  and  a  feeling  of  compassion  mingled  with 
that  love,  as  the  thou'ght  arose  to  my  mind,  how  horrid  it  was  to  unite 
youth  and  beauty  with  decrepid  old  age.  Actuated  by  this  impulse,  I 
there  and  then,  offered  her  my  hand  and  heart,  which  she  blushingly 
accepted.  Her  wedding  day  is  appointed  for  next  Thursday.  Now  it 
only  remains  for  you  to  give  your  consent,  when  I  will  find  means  to 
get  her  from  her  mother's  roof,  and  escort'  her  here,  where  we  can  be 
privately  married." 

"You  have  not  informed  me  of  the  lady's  name,"  said  his  father. 

"  Eveleen  Lisle,"  replied  Frank.  "  She  is  beautiful  in  the  extreme, 
and  she  will  be  quite  an  acquisition  in  enlivening  us  in  this  dull  house, 
without  a  female  to  do  the  honors.  I  do  not  think,  my  dear  father, 
that  a  fire-side  group  is  complete,  without  it  is  graced  with  the  endear- 
ing smile  of  woman." 

George  Seten  replied,  that  he  had  no  objections,  if  the  girl  was 
respectable,  such  a  one  as  he  could  receive  into  his  house  as  his 
daughter. 

Frank  thanked  him,  at  the  same  time,  informed  him  that  should  he 
be  fortunate,  he  would  bring  her  home  that  night.  Rising,  he  con- 
tinued, "  I  have  no  time  to  spare,  I  have  to  arrange  my  plans  ;"  saying 
this,  he  left  the  room. 

Mrs.  Lisle  had  misinformed  Frank  concerning  Eveleen.  She  was 
confined  to  her  own  room,  which  was  at  the  back  of  the  house,  cut  off 
from  all  communication.  On  the  day  previous,  as  she  was  passing  the 
room  of  her  mother,  she  heard  loud  and  angry  voices,  when  she  paused 
to  listen.  She  soon  learned  that  the  conversation,  which  was  carried  on 
in  a  high  key,  was  concerning  herself.  While  listening,  she  heard  the 
following  remark  made  by  the  man  whom  she  most  detested  on  earth. 

"  After  all  I  have  done  for  you,  and  all  your  promises,  you  would 
cheat  me  of  my  reward,  which  I  have  waited  so  long  and  patiently  for, 
but  you  shall  not — by  all  the  fiends  in  hell  you  shall  not.  I'll  have  her 
in  spite  of  every  obstacle." 


64  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

"I  do  not  wish  to  cheat  you,  Mr. ,  but  I  would  have  you  wait 

for  a  short  time  longer,  until  I  get  her  more  prepared  to  receive  your 
overtures     We  must  not  be  too  precipitate,"  replied  Mrs.  Lisle. 

"  I'll  wait  no  longer,"  he  cried.  "  You  have  put  me  off  too  long 
now.     She  must  be  mine  to-night,  or  I  am  no  longer  your  friend." 

"  Say  to-morrow  night,"  said  Mrs.  Lisle  ;  "  as  that  is  the  night  upon 
which  I  do  not  allow  visitors,  you  will  have  a  better  opportunity,  as 
you  will  not  be  liable  to  interruption,  should  she  make  any  opposition." 

"'  Well,  be  it  so,"  cried  he,  "  but  not  one  day  later." 

Eveleen  hearing  a  noise,  darted  up  the  stairs  and  entered  her  room, 
hastily  turning  the  key.  ,  She  seated  herself  for  a  moment,  to  gain  her 
scattered  thoughts,  when  pulling  a  card  from  the  folds  of  her  dress, 

she  muttered,  No.  Bond  street,  she  hastily  returned  -it  to  her 

bosom,  and  rising,  proceeded  to  envelope  herself  in  a  cloak,  which  she 
took  down  from  a  peg,  where  it  usually  hung  ;  she  then  took  her  hat 
from  its  case,  and  putting  it  on,  approached  the  door,  but  pausing  ere 
she  left  the  room,  she  said,  "  But  will  he  deceive  me  ?  He  may  be 
deceiving  me.  Should  it  be  so,  I  will  seek  some  shelter  elswhere,  I 
care  not  how  humble  ;  'twere  better  to  dwell  ia  abject  poverty,  than 
be  compelled  to  endure  the  odious  embraces  of  that  hideous  old  man." 

She  started  cautiously  down  the  stairs,  and  proceeded  towards  the 
front  entrance  ;  but  what  was  her  horror,  on  passing  the  parlor  door, 
to  be  confronted  by  her  mother,  and  the  object  of  her  aversion. 

The  former  questioned  her,  as  to  where  she  was  going,  at  the  same 
time,  noticing  her  confusion.  Eveleen  stammered  some  reply,  and 
hung  down  her  head  to  hide  her  agitation. 

"  Go  to  my  room  ;  I  will  be  there  immediately  ;  I  wish  to  speak 
with  you." 

Eveleen  slowly  went  up  stairs,  and  entered  the  apartment  of  her 
mother,  where  she  was  soon  followed  by  that  personage,  who,  seating 
herself,  addressed  her  as  follows  : 

"  Eveleen,  you  well  remember  what  I  have  told  you  in  reference  to 

Mr. ,  how  that  he  aided  me  when  the  world  frowned  upon  me, 

and  who  has  since  been  a  generous  friend  to  me,  enabling  me  to  live  in 
splendor  and  comfort,  which  has  given  me  the  opportunity  to  rear  you 
up  in  luxury,  and  give  you  an  education  suitable  to  fill  any  station. 
You  well  know  the  reward  he  demands  at  my  hands,  which  I  a  long- 
time ago  promised  him,  on  his  first  taking  notice  of  your  growing  beauty. 
That  was  his  business  here  to-day.  I  tried  to  put  it  off  until  a  future 
time,  but  he  tells  me  that  it  is  his  intention  to  go  to  Europe,  in  a  few 
days,  with  his  family,  where  he  intends  to  remain  for  some  time,  and 
that  he  would  not  defer  the  consummation  of  his  long  cherished  wish 
any  longer.  Upon  his  observing  my  opposition  to  his  will,  an  alterca- 
tion ensued,  in  which  he  informed  me  that  if  I  did  not  co-operate  with 
him,  and  use  my  influence  to  gain  your  compliance,  he  would  take  the 
house  from  me,  and  withdraw  his  friendship,  by  turning  me  once  more 
into  the  street,  without  a  home.  Now,  I  hope  I  shall  have  no  trouble 
with  you." 

"  Mother,  dear  mother,"  cried  Eveleen,  "  throwing  herself  upon  her 
knees  before  her,  "  can  you,  will  you,  sacrifice  your  daughter,  your  only 


THE  CHIP  BOY"  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 


65 


While  thought  after  thought  succeeded  each  other  in  my  brain,  I  was  moved  by  the  appearance 
of  a  little  Chip-boy  whom  I  saw  coming  towards  me,  with  a  basket-full  of  chips  upon  his  back  •  so 
pale,  so  sorrowful,  care-worn,  and  dejected  was  his  look,  that  it  even  moved  that  adamantine 
substance  composing  my  heart.— See  page  9. 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  67 

child,  to  the  lust  of  au  old  man  who  has  daughters  of  his  own  older 
than  I  am  ?  You  will  not,  will  you,  mother  f'l  and  she  buried  her  face 
in  the  folds  of  her  mother's  dress,  and  moaned  piteously. 

"Come,  come,  rise,  Eyeleen,"  cried  Mrs.  Lisle  ;  "you  might  have 
fared  worse  ;  he  is  not  such  a  bad  looking  man ;  what  need  you  care  ? 
Comply  but  with  his  wishes,  and  it  will  throw  him  in  your  power.  You 
can  command  him,  make  him  your  slave  ;  for  his  situation  in  life  is  such 
that  he  would  sacrifice  any  thing  but  life,  rather  than  have  it  publicly 
known  concerning  his  connection  with  you.  So,  conquer  this  repug- 
nance, and  receive  him,  when  he  comes,  with  smiles." 

Eveleen  arose  to  her  feet,  and  stepping  back  a  pace  or  two,  exclaimed, 
"  I  would  not  comply,  to  gain  a  sovereign's  power." 

"Well,  go  to  your  room  for  the  present,"  cried  Mrs.  Lisle  ;  you  will 
think  better  of  it  before  to-morrow  night." 

As  Eveleen  departed,  she  ascended  the  stairs  after  her,  and  turning 
the  key  in  the  door,  she  detained  her  a  close  prisoner,  where  she  was  at 
the  time  that  Frank  Seten  inquired  for  her  :  detained  by  her  unprin- 
cipled mother,  for  the  hellish  purpose  of  catering  to  the  lustful  appetite 
of  an  old  fiend  in  human  shape,  who,  in  the  walks  of  public  life,  was 
pronounced  by  men  a  patron  of  virtue.  How  easily  society  can  be 
cheated  by  hypocrisy  ! 

If  men  would  pause  in  their  onward  acts,  in  endeavoring  to  destroy 
innocent  virtue,  and  think  of  the  extent  of  their  guilt,  they  would  turn 
aside  with  horror ;  for  when  a  virtuous  female  has  become  a  discarded, 
ruined,  deluded  ontcast  from  society,  she  looks  back  at  the  artfulness 
with  which  her  destruction  has  been  completed,  and  finding  herself  a  loath- 
some object — loathsome  even  to  herself,  deceived  by  man — she  arms 
herself  with  all  the  arts  attainable  by  her  sex,  to  deceive  and  ruin  man 
in  turn. 

Twas  night,  as  Eveleen  sat  in  her  room,  pondering  upon  her  situa- 
tion. She  had  in  vain  tried  to  escape  from  her  prison  ;  she  heard  a 
noise — it  approached,  when  presently  the  key  turned  in  the  lock,  the 
door  opened,  and  her  admirer  entered,  with  a  sickening  smile  upon  his 
wrinkled  visage.  He  was  dressed  in  the  height  of  the  fashion,  appear- 
ing to  have  made  the  vain  attempt  to  hide  his  advanced  age.  He 
approached  Eveleen,  and  seated  himself  upon  the  sofa  beside  her,  and 
took  her  hand. 

She  turned  from  him  with  disgust.  On  his  perceiving  that  no  oppo- 
sition was  made  by  her,  he  gently  threw  his  arm  around  her.  She  rose 
from  the  sofa,  exclaiming,  "  Stand  off,  sir  !  I  know  the  hellish  nature 
of  your  visit  ;  but  you  will  not  accomplish  your  design,  not  while  I 
have  life." 

"  Come,  come.  Eveleen,  come  now,  be  generous,  my  pretty  one,"  he 
said,  in  a  whining  voice.  _ 

"  Be  generous  !  what  do  you  term  generosity  ? — to  give  that  to  thee 
which  alone  renders  life  desirable  ;  casting  away  all  my  hopes  of  hap- 
piness in  this  world,  and  the  salvation  of  my  soul  in  the  world  to  come, 
and  become  one  of  those  polluted  objects  which  are  daily  met  in  our 
streets,  scorned  and  condemned  by  society.     And  this  you  would  term 


68  TEE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

generosity.     Begone,  sir  !  I  loathe  you  as  I  would  a  toad  that,  just 
issuing  from  the  damp  earth,  would  touch  me  with  its  slimy  flesh." 

As  she  was  speaking,  he  approached  her.  She  withdrew  to  the 
farthest  extremity  of  the  apartment.  He  continued  to  advance  upon 
her,  extending  his  hand  to  take  hold  of  her.  She  struck  it  down,  and 
springing  past  him,  pushing  him  over  a  chair,  she  darted  through  the 
door.  Hearing  a  noise  upon  the  stairs,  she  ascended  to  the  roof  of  the 
building,  and  the  courageous  girl,  rather  than  be  caught  and  be  sub- 
jected to  the  persecutions  of  her  tormenter,  ran  some  distance  upon  the 
tops  of  the  houses,  till,  perceiving  one  of  the  scuttles  off,  she  hastened 
to  it,  and  the  thought  flashed  across  .her  brain  that  she  might  be  ena- 
bled to  effect  her  escape  by  descending  through  it  and  find  her  way 
into  the  street.  On  looking  down,  she  observed  that  it  was  dark;  she 
cautiously  groped  her  way  down,  without  meeting  with  any  obstruction 
until  she  had  arrived  upon  the  lower  flight  of  stairs,  when  the  parlor- 
door  was  opened  by  a  female  who  bore  a  lighted  lamp  in  her  hand. 
Upon  observing  Eveleen,  with  her  hair  dishevelled  and  streaming  over 
her  shoulders,  clothed  in  a  white  wrapper,  hastening  down  stairs,  she 
screamed,  and  dropping  the  lamp,  hurriedly  closed  the  door.  Eveleen 
sprang  for  the  entrance,  and  hastily  letting  herself  out,  she  was  received, 
fainting,  in  the  arms  of  Frank  Seten,  who  was  that  moment  approach- 
ing the  house  of  her  mother,  to  inform  her  of  his  success,  in  having 
gained  the  consent  of  his  father. 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  69 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Edward  Fay  and  Mary  Man  vers,  had  stood  at  the  altar,  and  had 
plighted  their  faith  to  sustain  and  nourish  each  other,  through  weal 
and  woe.  sickness  and  in  sorrow,  as  long  as  life  was  given  them  by  the 
great  Dispenser.  Mary  had  become  a  toother,  and  it  was  with  the 
purest  joy,  that  Edward  received  into  his  arms  the  smiling  infant. 

The  grief  of  Mary  for  the  loss  of  her  father,  had  gradually  worn 
away  as  new  objects  arose  around  her,  which  called  forth  her  love. 
Her  old  nurse  went  s;aily  around  from  room  to  room,  singing  snatches 
of  old  ballads,  and  Tommy  had  somewhat  given  up  his  rambling  life, 
remaining  home,  greatly  taken  with  the  infant,  for  it  was  a  peculiar 
trait  in  his  character — his  fondness  for  children.  It  was  a  happy  home, 
that  of  Edward  Fay,  such  a  home  as  is  the  reward  of  an  honest,  tem- 
perate mechanic,  who  is  faithful  to  himself,  faithful  to  his  employers, 
faithful  to  his  God,  and  faithful  to  his  family.  One  da*y,  having  been 
to  work  on  a  vessel  down  town,  as  he  was  returning  home  in  the  even- 
ing with  a  light  and  buoyant  heart,  anticipating  the  reception  he 
would  receive  from  his  young  and  lovely  wife,  a  slight  disturbance  in 
one  of  those  hells,  where  the  elixir  of  the  devil  is  daily  dispensed  freely 
to  poison  men's  minds,  attracted  his  attention,  when,  pausing  for  a 
moment  to  discover  the  cause,  he  observed  one  of  those  noble-minded, 
generous  spirits,  who  are  so  easily  misled  by  designing  persons,  through 
their  kind-heartedness.  I  allude  to  those  hardy  sailors,  who  daringly 
brave  the  dangers  of  the  ocean  to  protect  our  commerce,  and  are  the 
means  by  which  the  current  of  wealth  is  borne  unto  our  shores  ;  but, 
alas  !  how  poorly  are  they  requited  for  their  services,  subjected  to  poor 
pay,  hard  living  and  abuse  while  at  sea,  and  upon  their  arrival  upon 
shore,  they  are  fleeced  of  their  hard-earned  wages  by  those  persons 
who  are  ever  on  the  watch  to  rob  the  unwary. 

As  Edward  paused,  one  of  those  noble  tars  was  rudely  thrust  from 
the  door  of  the  gin-shop  into  the  street.  His  foot  coming  in  contact 
with  a  box  which  lay  upon  the  sidewalk,  he  fell,  his  head  striking  the 
curbstone,  upon  which  he  received  a  deep  gash.  The  blood  started  in 
a  stream  from  the  wound,  while  the  poor  sufferer  lay  motionless  upon 
the  ground,  unable,  either  from  the  injury  that  he  had  received,  or 
from  the  effects  of  the  quantity  of  liquor,  of  which  he  had  been  par- 
taking freely,  to  rise.  A  crowd  had  gathered  about  him,  but  not  one 
offered  to  assist  him,  nor  was  there  one  word  of  reprimand  spoken  to 
the  inhuman  wretch  who  had  been  the  author  of  the  dastardly  act. 
Of  what  consequence  was  it  ? — 'twas  nothing.  He  was  but  a  poor, 
drunken  sailor.     Xobody  cared  for  him.     It  was  no  matter  whether  he 


*70  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

lived  or  died.  So  thought  the  crowd,  who  stood  by  as  unconcerned  as 
if  he  were  some  cat  or  dog,  that  had  accidentally  received  an  injury. 
Oh  !  how  uncharitable  and  unsympathizing  arc  men  in  their  dealings 
one  with  another.  Wrapped  in  the  mantle  of  selfishness,  they  neither 
see  nor  care  for  others'  woes.  That  poor  misguided  man,  that  lay  there 
weltering  in  his  blood,  was  once  a  bright:eyed  child — an  object  of  the 
tenderest  care  of  a  doating  mother — and  loved  as  tenderly  as  the 
children  of  some  of  those  men  who  stood  there  enjoying  the  disaster 
of  the  poor  sailor. 

Edward  approached  him,  carefully  raised  him  from  the  ground,  took 
his  handkerchief  from  his  pocket,  and  binding  up  the  wound  to  stop 
the  effusion  of  blood,  which  trickled  down  his  weather-beaten  counten- 
ance in  little  streams,  took  him  by  the  arm,  and  persuading  him  to 
accompany  him  home,  started  off  amid  the  shouts  and  jeers  of  the  by- 
standers. Upon  his  way  home,  Edward  learned  from  honest  Will  (as 
he  was  called  by  his  shipmates),  "who  had  become  somewhat  sobered  by 
the  fall,  "  that  he  had  that  morning  shipped  in  the  government  service, 
and  had  received  three  months'  pay  in  advance,  and  one  week's  liberty 
to  stay  on  shore  ;  but,"  he  continued,  with  a  comic  leer,  (and  feeling 
into  his  pockets),  "the  sharks  have  pretty  well  cleaned  me  out  of  it. 
I  haven't  got  a  copper  left,  or  I'd  ask  you  to  splice  the  main-brace,  for 
running  down  to  me  with  squared  yards,  and  taking  me  in  tow,  wrhen  I 
was  knocked  do'wn  in  that  bit  of  a  squall." 

Edward  replied,  "  that  it  was  much  better  to  be  without  money, 
than  to  spend  it  to  enrich  a  parcel  of  unfeeling  men,  who  had  not  one 
feeling  of  sympathy  in  common  with  their  fellow-creatures,  but  who 
daily  stood  behind  their  bars,  dealing  out  poison  to  man,  bringing  ruin 
upon  him  and  his  family,  without  a  care  for  their  sufferings  or  misery. 
So  that  they  obtained  gold,  'twas  all  that  they  cared  for."  He  then 
inquired  the  cause  of  the  disturbance  between  him  and  the  landlord. 

Will  replied,  "  that,  early  in  the  afternoon,  as  he  was  listlessly  pass- 
ing along,  he  was  invited  to  enter  and  take  a  drink.  Having  drank, 
he,  with  the  noble  generosity  which  actuates  the  most  of  our  seamen, 
treated  in  turn,  calling  up  to  the  bar  all  in  the  house.  So,  treat  after 
treat  was  called  for  by  him,  until  his  money  was  all  gone,  when,  asking 
for  another  dram,  he  was  abruptly  told  to  leave  the  house.  Will,  not 
liking  this  usage  very  well,  became  rather  noisy,  when,  as  before-men- 
tioned, he  was  thrust  from  the  store." 

Upon  their  arrival  at  his  residence,  Edward,  who  was  welcomed  by 
a  kiss,  on  relating  the  mishap  of  Will  to  his  wife,  she  kindly  invited 
him  to  be  seated,  and  with  her  own  hands  washed  and  dressed  his 
wound.  When  this  was  accomplished.  Will  was  made  to  sit  clown  to 
sapper  with  the  family. 

As  that  honest,  kind-hearted  man  sat  at  that  table,  gazing  upon  the 
happiness  depicted  upon  each  countenance  that  surrounded  him,  he 
thought  of  his  precarious  life — how  that  he  had  been  a  wanderer  upon 
the  voyage  of  his  lonely  existence,  unloved,  uncarcd  for  by  his  fellow- 
creatures,  ever  among  strangers,  without  the  sympathizing  feelings 
which  are  so  dear  to  the  human  heartland  long  buried  thoughts  arose  to 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  ?1 

his  memory.  Visions  of  his  early  youth  came  up  before  him,  and  as 
Mrs.  Fay,  at  the  conclusion  of  the  evening  meal  knelt  down,  and  in 
beautiful  and  touching  language  gave  thanks  to  the  Giver  of  all  good 
for  His  kind  care  and  protection  through  the  trials  and  temptations  of 
another  day,  a  tear  arose  to  his  eyes  as  he  thought  of  his  own  dear 
mother,  to  whom  he  had  caused  many  a  pang — to  whom  he  in  early 
life  so  often  listened,  as  she  prayed  in  like  manner. 

Our  seamen  are  generally  susceptible.  There  is  a  chord  within  the 
inmost  recesses  of  their  hearts — that  can  be  easily  touched,  if  taken  in 
the  right  way — which  will  discourse  heavenly  music.  Thus  it  was  with 
this  old  tar.  It  was  many  years  since  he  had  been  received  into  the 
circle  of  a  Christian  family,  and  the  early  teachings  of  his  beloved 
parent,  who  had  been  long  dead,  had  become  choked  up  with  weeds, 
but  not  wholly  eradicated.  They  had  lain  dormant  for  many  years,  to 
be  brought  forth  to  flourish  in  truthfulness,  by  some  kind  and  benevo- 
lent hand. 

How  careful  should  parents  be  with  children,  and  early  instil  the 
beauties  of  religion,  with  all  its  holiness  and  duties,  into  their  infant 
minds.  IsTo  matter  where  they  go,  no  matter  what  is  their  station  in 
life — whether  upon  the  briny  deep,  or  upon. the  land — should  they  by 
some  mischance  step  aside  from  the  path  of  rectitude,  it  will  at  times 
recur  to  them  amid  the  busy  scenes  of  life,  and  startle  them ;  cause 
them  to  pause  in  their  downward  course  to  ruin,  and  in  many  an 
instance  produce  a  reformation.  The  teachings  of  a  Christian  mother 
are  never  forgotten  by  a  child.  How  I  shudder  as  I  pass  along  the 
streets  upon  the  Sabbath — that  holy  day  of  rest  from  toil,  which  is 
given  up  to  worship  in  this  Christian  land  of  freedom,  where  each  and 
all  may,  according  to  the  dictates  of  their  own  consciences,  serve  their 
God  in  their  own  way — when  I  behold  so  many  little  children  playing 
and  shouting,  unrestrained  by  any  guiding  hand  ;  their  parents  them- 
selves shut  out  from  the  holy  light  of  God  by  wilful  blindness,  caring 
not  for  the  morals  of  their  children.  What  a  benighted  spectacle  does 
a  man  present,  who  has  come  to  the  age  of  maturity  without  ever  hav- 
ing the  knowledge  of  the  divine  love  of  the  Redeemer  impressed  upon 
his  mind  !  What  a  monument  of  darkness  !  Parents  blame  fate  for 
the  crimes  of  their  children,  instead  of  blaming  themselves.  The  pub- 
lic wonder  at  the  depravity  of  human  nature,  as  they  glance  their  eye 
over  the  account  of  some  horrid  murder,  or  examine  the  statistics  of 
our  prisons,  and  find  them  full  to  overflowing,  or  witness  the  number  of 
inebriates  in  our  city.  The  self-conviction  will  arise  that  it  is  the  fault 
of  parents. 

All  were  seated  around  a  cheerful  fire,  highly  delighted  with  the 
droll  stories  and  daring  adventures,  hair-breadth  escapes  and  happy 
times  of  honest  Will,  who,  having  the  infant  daughter  of  Mrs.  Fay 
upon  his  knee,  apparently  very  contented,  had  been  drawn  out  by  Ed- 
ward to  speak  of  himself,  much  to  the  annoyance  of  Tommy,  who  now 
and  then  threw  spiteful  glances  towards  him  for  keeping  his  little  charge 
so  long  from  him. 

After  concluding  a  laughable  little  yarn  which  he  bad  been  telling, 
and  witi  which  he  had   been  taking  the  sailor's  privilege — that  of 


72  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

stretching  the  truth  to  its  utmost — he  sat  tossing  little  Charlotte  up 
and  down  upon  his  hands.  Tommy  approached  him  stealthily,  and 
darting  suddenly  forward,  he  seized  the  child  and  ran  to  the  opposite 
side  of  the  room.  Will,  not  liking  to  be  treated  thus  unceremoniously, 
threw  off  his  jacket,  and  was  about  to  give  battle,  and  contend  for  the 
possession  of  the  babe,  to  which  he  had  become  much  attached  consid- 
ering the  the  short  time  that  he  had  been  in  its  company  ;  but,  upon 
being  made  acquainted  by  Edward  of  the  peculiarities  and  malady  of 
Tommy,  he  desisted,  and  quietly  took  his  seat.  Gocd  humor  once 
more  being  restored,  Will  was  asked  to  tell  another  story. 

After  taking  a  chew  of  tobacco,  the  sailor's  constant  companion, 
and  .that  enemy  of  the  clean  housewife  who  has  a  regard  for  her 
carpets — he  began  : 

"  One  bright  morning  as  we  were  running  before  the  wind — I  was  then 

attached  to  the  good  old  schooner  S ,  which  had  been  fully  manned, 

victualled,  and  dispatched  by  government  to  apprehend  or  destroy 
those  accursed  pirates  who  infested  the  West  India  seas,  ruthlessly 
committing  their  depredations  upon  men  and  property.  We  were  run- 
ning as  I  said  before,  with  the  wind  right  after  us  with  studding  sails 
set  'alow  and  aloft  on  both  sides  ;'  the  men  were  at  breakfast,  when 
they  were  startled  by  the  cry  of  Sail,  Ho  !  which  came  from  the  mast- 
head, where  a  man  wras  continually  placed  to  look  out  for  the  enemy. 
The  officer  of  the  deck  hastily  putting  the  speaking-trumpet  to  his  lips, 
with  a  quick  startling  cry,  asked  'Where  away  V  'Broad  on  the  star- 
board beam,  standing  this  way  sir,'  cried  the  man.'  '  Can  you  make 
her  out,'  cried  the  officer  agan  through  his  trumpet.' 

"  She  looks  like  a  small  vessel  sir,"  cried  the  man.  Now,  all 
was  bustle,  (for  the  men  had  been  picked  for  this  expedition,  and  had 
put  to  sea  with  the  expectation  of  having  a  brush)  ;  so  as  may  be  sup- 
posed— their  souls  were  in  arms  and  eager  for  the  fray.  The  word 
was  passed  along  the  deck,  "  Lay  aft  to  the  braces — stand  by  to  take 
in  all  the  studding  sails," — the  downhauls  being  led  along  the  decks 
and  manned,  the  word  was  passed  along, — "  All  ready  sir,"  "  haul  taut, 
in  studding  sails,  ease  away  the  larboard  head-braces,  haul  in  to  lee- 
ward, put  your  helm  down,  cried  the  officer  to  the  man  at  the  wheel.'' 
In  came  the  studding  sails,  up  went  the  yards  sharp  up,  and  our  gal- 
lant little  vessel  rounded  too  upon  the  larboard  tack,  as  gracefully  and 
lightly  as  any  belle  among  the  upper  ten,  could  reel  and  take  her  place 
in  the'dance. 

The  two  vessels  approaching  from  opposite  directions,  soon  neared 
each  other,  and  we  soon  made  her  out  to  be  a  long  low  black  schooner 
which  we  had  heard  much  of,  and  which  had  been  a  terror  to  our  mer- 
chant vessels.  We  beat  to  quarters,  aud  having  disguised  the  looks  of 
our  schooner  outside,  so  as  to  resemble  a  horse  jockey  from  one  of  the 
eastern  States,  (which  the  buccaneer  mistook  us  for) — we  lay  con- 
cealed between  the  guns,  all  but  a  few  of  us  who  were  walking  the 
decks  and  working  the  vessel.  The  officers  had  thrown  off  their  glit- 
tering uniform,  and  were  dressed  in  rough  pea  jackets  such  as  are  worn 
by  officers  of  merchantmen  while  at  sea. 

The  pirate  came  dashing  along  up  under  our  lea,  and  the  captain 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  To 

hailed  us,  and  commanded  us  to  heave  too,  and  send  a  boat  on  board  with 
an  officer,  bringing  a  manifesto  of  our  cargo  with  him.  Now,  what  do 
von  think  was  his  answer  ? '  cried  Will  to  his  eager  listeners,  who  replied 
that  they  did  not  know.  "Why  our  captain  gave  orders  to  fire  a  broad- 
side into  him,  which  was  done  with  such  good  effect  that  it  sent  both 
his  masts  over  the  side,  leaving  him  a  wreck  upon  the  ocean  at  the 
mercy  of  the  waves,  killing  the  most  of  her  crew,  and  the  starspangled 
banner  floated  in  the  breeze  triumphantly.  Our  second  cutter  was 
called  away  and  hastily  manned  by  a  stout  crew,  commanded  by  Lieu- 
tenant W ;  which  hastily  pulled  on  board  of  the  dismantled  vessel. 

On  arriving  alongside  of  her,  the  officer  and  crew  sprang  up  aboard, 
where  nothing  met.  their  view  but  the  mangled  remains  of  human 
bodies.  The  officer  gave  the  men  orders  to  keep  a  good  look  out,  and 
he  descended  into  the  cabin,  but  what  was  his  horror  to  perceive  the 
captain  of  the  pirate  surrounded  by  the  remnant  of  his  crew,  holding  a 
lighted  match  in  his  hand  ;  in  their  midst  was  a  number  of  barrels  of 
powder,  with  the  heads  knocked  out. 

On  perceiving  Lieutenant  W ,  the  buccaneer  accosted    him  in 

the  following  language: — "  Look  you  here,  my  gay  young  spark,  (by 

the  help  of  the  d 1  or  some  of  his  angels  who  have  deserted  me, 

after  sticking  by  me  for  a  long  time),  we  are  now  at  your  mercy 
as  you  suppose.  Having  made  an  easy  conquest,  it  is  your  captain's 
intention  I  expect  to  take  us  into  port  and  have  us  tried  for  pirates,  and 

hanged  as  pirates.     Now,  there  being  a  little  spice  of  the  d 1  in  me, 

I  intend  to  disappoint  him  ;  me  and  the  remainder  of  my  crew  have 

come  to  the  conclusion  to  travel  a  quicker  route  toll 1,  than  through 

courts  of  justice,  so  we  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  if  you  do  not 
go  on  board  and  acquaint  your  captain  with  our  intentions,  we  will  all 
go  on  a  voyage  of  discovery  together  ;"  (and  lie  held  the  match  within 
an  inch  of  the  powder).  "  What  say  you  my -men?*  cried  he.  His 
speech  was  hailed  by  a  shout  of  approbation  by  his  blood-thirsty  crew. 
"  I  had  overheard  the  whole  of  the  conversation,"  cried  Will,  "  I 
being  one  of  the  crew  of  the  boat,  but  could  not  see  the  speaker  ;  I  was 

resolved   to   stand  by  my  officer  until   the   last."     Lieutenant  W . 

during  this  speech  had  rapidly  ran  over  his  mind  the  situation  of  him- 
self and  boat's  crew.  Should  he  agree  to  the  pirate's  terms,  his 
actions  might  be  construed  into  cowardice  ;  rather  than  be  stigmatized 
by  that  appellation  by  my  brother  officers,  I  would  lose  ten  thousand 
thought  he,  (such  is  the  jealousy  of  a  brave  man  for  his  honor). 
While  pausing  to  deliberate,  the  pirate  continued,  "  Do  you  accept  the 
terms  ?  " 

Lieutenant  W ,  shutting  his  teeth  with  a  firm  resolve,  exclaimed, 

"  Never  !  The  match  dropped  among  the  powder.  I  knew  no  more 
until  the  next  day,  when  1  found  myself  laying  in  my  hammock,  on 
board  of  our  own  little  schooner,  tended  by  the  surgeon,  who  was  anx- 
ously  watching  my  coming  too.  I  inquired  for  those  that  went  with 
me  in  the  boat,  but  was  informed  that  they  had  met  a  watery  grave  ; 
they  had  been  destroyed,  by  causing  the  destruction  of  the  destroyers 
of  many." 


74  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

His  story  was  listened  to  with  intense  interest  by  all ;  by  none  more 
so  than  Jenny,  who  had  been  gazing  on  the  countenance  of  the  sailor 
with  distended  eyes.  As  he  concluded,  she  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  the  veelins! 
they  should  ha'  been  a'  burned  at  the  stake." 

And  thus  passed  the  time  until  the  hour  of  rest,  when  Will  was 
invited  to  remain  in  the  house  until  his  departure  to  sea.  For,  dear 
reader,  rents  had  not  become  so  high  at  that  time  (by  the  wrong 
administration  of  a  corrupt  Common  Council,  which  has  since  called 
forth  the  indignation  of  the  people,  and  with  one  loud  voice  called  for 
reform,)  but  that  a  working-man  could  keep  a  spare  room  for  the 
accommodation  of  a  friend.  So  our  houest  friend  was  domiciled  in  the 
family  of  this  new  found  friend,  where  he  spent  a  happy  week  in  their 
society,  free  from  the  snares  and  temptations  that  assail  the  sailor  at 
every  turn.  It  was  his  delight  to  accompany  Tommy  and  the  little 
Charlotte  out  of  town,  where  they  would  sit  upon  the  banks  of  the  East 
river,  and  gaze  upon  the  passing  vessels.  Will  would  take  great  pains 
to  explain  the  nature  of  the  different  craft  upou  the  river  to  his  simple 
friend,  who  appeared  highly  delighted,  and  wished  that  he  was  a  sailor, 
for  he  said  that  he  liked  sailors,  for  they  could  tell  such  big  lies  ;  alluding 
to  Will's  stories,  which  he  said  he  didn't  believe  a  word  of. 

Thus  passed  a  week  away,  never  to  be  forgotten  by  that  worthy  tar. 

The  evening  before  his  departure,  they  were  all  seated,  with  clouded 
brows,  around  the  stove,  the  night  being  somewhat  cold,  although  the 
spring  had  far  advanced.  Edward  felt  really  sorry  at  the  approaching 
parting,  for  he  had  become  attached  to  the  society  of  Will.  When 
Mrs.  Fay,  rising  and  going  to  the  bureau,  from  which  she  took  a  new 
Bible  that  she  had  purchased  that  day,  approaching  the  sailor,  she  said, 
"  My  friend,  to-morrow  is  the  day  appointed  for  you  to  go  on  board  of 
your  vessel.  You  will  again  be  thrown  amongst  those  honest  but  care- 
less beings  who  have  no  regard  for  the  future.  I  wish  to  bestow  upon 
you  a  souvenir,  as  a  token  of  my  esteem ;  one  that  may,  by  the  grace 
of  Gad,  be  of  more  value  than  all  earthly  treasures.  Read  it,  my  friend; 
read  it  with  care.  You  will  there  find  a  panacea  against  all  worldly 
cares." 

She  presented  it  to  Will,  who  received  it  with  the  following  remark: 

"  I  will  read  it,  lady  ;  if  for  nothing  else,  I  will  read  it  for  the  sake 
of  the  giver." 

Will  seeing  that  a  settled  gloom  had  cast  itself  around  upon  them 
all,  forgetting  himself  for  a  moment,  he  cried,  "  As  1  am  going  away 
to-morrow,  suppose  we  have  a  little  something  to  take,  as  parting  is 
generally  a  dry  piece  of  business."  But  the  thought  of  the  temperate 
habits  of  those  around  him  reeurring  to  him,  he  stammered  an  apology. 

Wiieu  l\h>.  Fay  cried,  "We  will  have  a  drink,  and  I  will  drink  you 
a  toast,  my  honest  friend  ;"  and  going  to  the  closet,  she  took  from  thence 
a  large  pitcher  and  se?eral  tumblers,  which  she  placed  upon  the  table 
and  lilled  with  clear  jparkling  water,  when,  taking  one  in  her  own 
hand,  she  invited  the  rest  to  do  likewise  ;  pausing  for  a  moment,  to 
give  force  to  her  words,  she  gave  the  following  toasl  :  "  Here's  to  those 
bright  stars  of  temperance:  may  they  form  in  one  grand  galaxy,  and 


TKE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  75 

serve  as  a  beacon  to  guide  the  poor  deluded  drunkard  to  the  pure  foun- 
tain of  the  waters  of  life."  .  She  then  drank  off  the  water,  her  example 
being  followed  by  the  rest.  She  then  continued,  addressing  Will, 
•;  Make  that  your  ruling  toast,  as  you  hope  for  salvation  hereafter,  for 
you.  too,  have  a  precious  soul  to  be  saved." 

Will  replied,  gazing  upon  the  countenance  of  that  good  woman, 
looking  upwards  as  he  continued,  '"When  I  forget  to  follow  your 
advice,  may  God  forget  me." 

The  rest  of  the  evening  was  spent  in  religious  devotion,  Mrs.  Fay 
praying  fervently  to  her  Maker  for  the  protection  of  him  who  was  to 
make  his  home  for  a  time  upon  the  deep. 

On  the  following  day  Will  Sykes  took  bis  departure,  bidding  his 
friends  adieu,  with  a  feeling  of  sorrow  that  he  had  never  experienced 
at  any  period  of  his  life  before. 


76  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

When  Frank  Seten  received  the  insensible  form  of  her  he  loved  in 
his  arms,  he  hurriedly  proceeded  towards  Church  street,  where  he 
observed  a  carriage  standing,  the  driver  having  alighted  and  entered  a 
porter-house,  to  refresh  himself  with  a  glass  of  liquor.  While  Frauk 
was  looking  around  for  the  owner  of  the  vehicle,  he  was  startled  by 
hearing  voices  crying  "  This  way,  this  way."  They  went  this  way  from 
the  direction  of  the  dwelling  of  Mrs.  Lisle.  This  gave  token  that  he 
had  been  observed,  and  was  pursued.  Glancing  hastily  around,  he 
observed  a  gate  which  led  to  the  roar  of  the  building  in  front  of  which 
he  was  standing.  He  entered.  At  this  moment  the  driver  of  the 
carriage  issued  from  the  door  of  the  grog  shop  and  was  accosted  by 
the  girl  who  usually  tended  the  door,  who  was  closely  followed  by  Mrs. 
Lisle. 

"  Did  you  see  a  girl  running  this  way,  sir  ?"  asked  she. 

"  A  girl,"  cried  the  driver,  in  a  broad  Hibernian  accent  ;  "  A  girl. 
Xow,  my  pretty  dear,  what  kind  of  a  girl  ?  was  it  a  little  girl,  or  a 
big  girl  ;  a  white  girl,  or  a  nager  girl  ;  a  slim  girl,  or  a  broad  girl  ;  a 
fat  girl  or  a  lean  girl.  Xow,  my  darlint,  if  ye'll  give  me  one  swate 
kiss,  I'll  tell  ye  all  about  it  ;  be  my  soul  I  will." 

As  he  concluded  speaking,  he  threw  his  arm  around  her  neck,  when 
he  received  a  blow  from  behind,  which  was  delivered  by  Mrs.  Lisle. 
Turning  to  see  from  whence  it  came,  she  gave  him  a  push  which  sent 
him  reeling  into  the  gutter.  The  girl  and  her  mistress  starting  down 
Church-street  in  pursuit  of  the  fugitive  daughter  of  the  latter. 

Frank,  seeing  the  coast  clear,  came  forth  from  his  hiding-place, 
bearing  his  lovely  burthen  in  his  arms,  who  now  began  to  give  signs 
of  returning  consciousness. 

She  murmured,  "  Begone,  sir,  you  shall  not  accomplish  your  designs; 
unhand  me  or  I'll  cry  murder." 

"  Quiet  your  fears,  dear  Eveleen,"  cried  Frank. 

"  Where  am  I  ?"  cried  she,  looking  around  with  wild  air. 

"With  one  who  will  protect  you  with  his  life,"  cried  he.  "One 
whom  you  love." 

"  Thank  Heaven,  then,  I'm  safe." 

Frank  now  hastily  spoke  to  the  driver,  who  had  risen  from  the 
ground  muttering  curses  upon  all  women,  from  mother  Eve  down  to 
the  spiteful  devil  that  had  given  him  such  a  polter  in  the  eye,  that 
he  would  not  be  able  to  see  clear  for  a  month. 

Upon  Frank  thrusting  a  roll  of  bills  into  his  hand  he  ceased  his 
grumbling,  and  quickly  opened  the  door  of  the  carriage,  and  letting 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  IT 

down  the  steps,  assisted  Frank  to  place  the  lady  upon  one  of  the 
cuhsioned  seats.  Seten  sprang  in,  and  the  driver  closing  the  door, 
jumped  upon  the  box,  and  drove  off  at  a  rapid  rate,  just  as  Mrs.  Lisle 
and  the  girl  came  in  sight,  having  given  up  the  useless  pursuit.  Upon 
arriving  at  her  own  door  she  entered,  and  proceeded  immediately  to 

her  own  private  room,  where  she  found  Mr.  foaming  with  rage 

at  his  disappointment.  It  was  with  much  trouble  that  she  succeeded 
in  quieting  him  with  the  assurance  that  Eveleen  would  soon  return, 
when  he  would  be  enabled  to  accomplish  his  wishes. 

Having  become  somewhat  calm,  he  told  her  that  things  appeared  as 
if  she  and  her  daughter  had  leagued  together  to  disappoint  him  in 
his  designs.  He  had  become  suspicious.  If  he  should  discover  such 
to  be  the  case,  she  would  rue  it,  for  he  would  become  her  deadly 
enemy.  He  concluded  by  saying,  that  few  crossed  his  path  with 
impunity. 

Mrs.  Lisle  assured  him  that  he  was  mistaken,  as  it  was  so  much  to 
her  interest  to  aid  him,  he  had  no  cause  to  fear. 

Becoming  somewhat  assured,  he  said  he  would  depart,  but  re- 
quested her  to  inform  him  the  moment  that  Eveleen  should  be  found. 

When  she  was  left  alone,  she  sat  musing  for  a  long  time,  calling  up 
different  events  of  her  life.  She  thought  of  her  youthful  days,  of  her 
poor  silly,  but  kind,  good  mother.  ■  She  thought  of  the  grief  and  death 
of  that  parent,  upon  the  discovery  of  her  own  ruin;  and  the  heinous- 
ness  of  her  own  course,  arose  before  her,  as  it  flashed  across  her  mind 
that  she  herself  was  the  instrument  which  was  driving  an  innocent, 
virtuous  girl,  such  as  she  once  was,  to  ruin.  She  thought  of  her  own 
enemy  ;  was  she  never  going  to  attain  her  long  desired  revenge  ?  She 
felt  that  she  would,  and  she  hissed  through  her  teeth  the  words, 
"won't  it  be  a  glorious  moment."     She  then  thought  of  her  obligation 

to  M .     How  she  hated  that  old  wretch.     His  tyranical  behavior 

of  late  had  caused  her  to  despise  him  still  more.  Why  not  denounce 
him  to  the  world,  expose  him,  and  rid  herself  of  him,  and  save  Eveleen 
from  ruin  ?  but  that,  she  thought,  could  only  deprive  her  of  a  hand- 
some living.  Eveleen  must  be  found  and  sacrificed  to  him.  She 
arose,  approached  the  sideboard,  and*  drank  a  large  glass  of  brandy. 
Thus  she  sat  deep  into  the  night,  busied  with  her  own  turbulent 
thoughts,  drinking  glass  after  glass,  until  becoming  unconscious,  she  fell 
over  upon  the  sofa,  one  of  the  most  degrading  sights  that  can  meet  the 
view — a  drunken  woman. 

When  the  carriage  arrived  in  Bond  Street,  Frank  alighted  with 
Eveleen  ;  turning  to  the  driver,  he  gave  him  a  five-dollar  bill  accom- 
panied with  the  words,  "  You  need  not  be  telling  every  body  that  you 
meet  about  this  night's  work." 

"  Xever  fear,"  cried  the  driver,  as  he  sprang  upon  his  box  and  drove 
off,  greatly  pleased  at  his  good  fortune. 

Frank  entered  the  parlor  with  Eveleen  hanging  upon  his  arm,  whom 
he  introduced  to  his  father,  and  a  young  clergyman  of  his  acquaintance 

who  were  seated  conversing  together.      Frank  had  met  Mr.  S — 

during  the  day,  and  informed  him   of  his   intended  marriage,  letting 


*T8^  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

him  into  the  secret,  as  he  termed  it,  by  telling  him  the  same  story  as  he 
had  told  his  father,  and  requesting  him  to  be  in  waiting  at  his  own 
house  in  Bond  Street  in  the  evening,  where  he  wished  him  to  unite  him 
to  the  fair  Eveleeu. 

Having  seated  themselves  for  a  moment,  listening  to  the  discourse 
carried  on  between  the  two  gentlemen,  Frank  pulled  his  watch  from 
his  fob  and  looking  at  it,  observed  that  they  had  no  time  to  lose,  they 
had  better  proceed  to  business. 

Mr.  S arose  and  approached  the  table  which  stood  in  the  centre 

of  the  room,  upon  which  lay  a  large  Bible  which  he  opened,  and 
requested  the  young  couple  to  stand  up  before  him.  Doing  as  they 
were  desired,  the  marriage  ceremony  was  pronounced,  after  which  a 
prayer  was  delivered,  and  Frank  recompensing  Mr.  S very  hand- 
somely, who  shortly  after  took  his  departure,  they  were  left  alone. 

Frank  endeavored  to  draw  his  father  into  a  conversation  with  his 
new-made  bride,  but  found  it  impossible,  as  his  sullenness  had  again 
returned  upon  him.  He  answered  only  in  monosyllables  in  a  surly 
tone.  Eveleen  feared  him  at  first,  but  Frank  informing  her  in  a  whis- 
per that  it  was  his  way,  that  she  must  not  be  alarmed,  they  soon 
retired  to  rest. 

Time  passed  swiftly  by.  Summer,  autumn,  winter,  had  flown  by, 
and  lay  buried  in  the  past.  Frank  Seten  was  happy  with  his  young 
wife  whom  he  loved  with  a  fondness  bordering  upon  idolatry.  He 
was  the  father  of  a  lovely  boy  of  whom  he  was  very  fond.  His  father 
had  thrown  the  management  of  his  affairs  into  his  hands,  and  would 
sit  brooding  in  silence  for  days  together  in  his  own  room,  none 
approaching  him  but  his  own  attendant,  a  little  girl  whom  Frank  had 
engaged  to  wait  exclusively  upon  him.  But  the  bad  humor  and  fret- 
fulness  of  the  old  man  soon  drove  her  away,  causing  a  new  one  to  be 
hired  nearly  every  month. 

As  Frank  was  passing  through  the  street  upon  business  early  one 
morning  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  dwelling  of  Edward  Fay,  his  atten- 
tion was  drawn  to  a  pretty  little  wagon  which  contained  a  lovely  infant, 
drawn  by  a  man  fantastically  dressed.  Upon  inquiring  of  some  chil- 
dren who  it  was,  he  was  informed  by  them  that  it  was  Crazy  Tom. 

"  Whose  is  the  child  in  the  wagon  ?"  asked  Frank. 

"  That's  little  Sissy  Fay,"  cried  the  boy,  running  off  to  avoid 
Tommy  who  was  approaching,  of  whom  he  stood  in  much  fear. 

Seten  continued  his  walk,  all  the  feelings  of  hatred  which  he  bore 
to  that  family  rising  to  his  mind,  and  causing  the  desire  for  revenge 
which  had  been  smothered  for  a  time  in  his  bosom,  to  rush  upon  him 
with  full  force.  He  quickly  conceived  a  plan  whereby  he  might  gloat 
his  malicious  hate  upon  their  misery — -judging  from  the  nature  of  his 
own  feelings  for  his  infant  son,  how  he  could  make  the  hearts  of 
Edward  and  Mary  Fay  bleed  at  the  loss  of  their  child.  His  compact 
with  Mrs.  Lisle  gave  him  the  power  to  call  on  her  for  assistance  to 
aid  him.     Full  of  these  thoughts,  he  took  his  way  for  that  person's 

dwelling.      Mr, had  not  yet  returned  from  abroad,  where,  it  will 

be  recollected,  we  mentioned  in  a  former  chapter,  he  intended  going 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  .    19 

with  his  family.  And  as  Mrs.  Lisle  saw  day  after  day  and  month 
after  month  pass  away  without  the  discovery  of  Eveleen,  she  dreaded 
his  return.  Frank  had  often  called  since  his  marriage,  but  he  was  not 
suspected  of  knowing  anything  of  Eveleen,  and  was  on  very  good  terms 
with  the  mistress  of  the  house. 

Upon  his  arrival,  Mrs.  Lisle  invited  him  to  ascend  to  her  own  room, 
where  they  seated  themselves  side  by  side,  upon  the  sofa. 

"What  news  do  you  bring  me,  George, "  cried  Mrs.  Lisle;  "have 
you  discovered  my  enemy  or  my  daughter  ?" 

"  Neither,"  cried  Frank,  "  and  I  have  made  diligent  search  for  both. 
I  do  not  think  that  they  are  in  the  city. 

"  Curses  on  them  ;  but  I  do  not  blame  Eveleen  so  much  for  run- 
ning away  to  get  rid  of  that  hateful  old  wretch.  Have  you  lately 
inquired  among  your  friends  aud  acquaintances  if  they  have  known 
through  life  any  person  answering  to  the  name  of  Grafton  V 

"  I  have,''  replied  Frank,  "  and  can  gain  no  intelligence.-' 

"  I  have  searched  the  directory,"  pursued  the  lady,  "  but  to  no  effect  ; 
there  must  be  some  mystery.  He  is  either  dead,  or  has  left  the  country. 
There  is  an  inward  feeling  that  tells  me  that  he  is  living,  and  that  I 
shall  yet  see  him.  Were  I  to  know  that  I  might  find  him  upon  the 
utmost  con  hues  of  the  earth,  I  would  travel  barefoot— aye,  should  my 
strength  give  way,  I'd  drag  myself  prostrate  upon  the  ground,  inch  by 
inch,  so  that  I  could  meet  him  face  to  face,  and  spit  my  venom  upon 
him." 

"  I  too,  have  an  enemy,  and  by  your  cooperation,"  said  Frank,  "  I 
will  be  enabled  to  crush  him.  I  do  not  wish  him  dead  ;  I  would 
torture  him  and  make  his  days  pass  slowly  by,  one  continual  living 
death." 

He  then  related  to  her  his  enmity  to  Edward  Fay,  and  the  cause  of 
it,  concluding  by  narrating  to  her  the  means  by  which  he  intended  to 
crush  his  enemies. 

This  woman,  dead  to  every  feeling  of  virtue  and  humanity,  willingly 
consented,  feeling  that  it  would  be  a  relief  to  her  to  gratify  her  revenge- 
ful nature  upon  some  victim  to  whom  she  would  be  enabled  to  cause 
misery.     "  But  what  will  you  have  done  with  the  child,"  asked  she. 

"  L)rown  it,  or  do  what  you  like  with  it,"  cried  Frank. 

"  That  would  not  do,"  said  she.  "  The  body  would  be  found,  and 
might  lead  to  discovery  ;  and  the  parents  identifying  it  would  know 
that  the  little  thing  was  dead.  Their  grief  would  soon  wear  away,  and 
you  would  lose  half  your  revenge.  But  if  they  "were  kept  in  ignorance 
of  its  fate  it  would  be  a  source  of  daily  sorrow  aud  uncertainty  to 
them." 

"True,"  cried  Frank,  "you  had  better  have  it  taken  from  the  city 
for  a  short  time,  until  inquiry  has  ceased,  and  then  place  it  in  the  alms 
house,  where,  amongst  the  numberless  infants  daily  placed  there,  it 
would  grow  up  unknown  to  any." 

Having  arranged  all  matters,  Frank  took  his  departure,  sure  of 
success.  . 

On  the  following  day  as  Tommy  was  taking  his  usual  round  witu 


80  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

little  Charlotte  in  the  wagon,  when  near  to  the  corner  of  the  street, 
two  ladies  approached  him.  One  of  them  addressed  him  in  the  follow- 
ing language  : 

"  My  good  sir,  would  you  be  so  kind  as  to  go  into  that  grocery  and 
get  me  sixpence  worth  of  cloves,  there  are  so  many  men  in  there  that 
I  have  some  delicacy  in  entering  lest  I  be  insulted*  I  will  reward  you 
handsomely  if  you  do.'' 

Tommy  looked  at  her  for  a  moment,  on  being  spoken  to  so  civilly, 
and  said,  "  I  will  go,  ma'am,  if  you  will  take  good  care  of  my  little 
strawberry,  while  I'm  gone." 

The  lady  promising  to  do  so,  gave  him  a  bill,  knowing  that  he  would 
be  detained  by  waiting  for  the  change.  The  idiot  received  it,  ran  tow- 
ards the  store,  and  entered  ;  when  the  woman  looking  around,  and  seeing 
that  she  was  unobserved,  rapidly  took  the  infant  from  the  wagon  and 
concealing  it  beneath  her  cloak,  hurriedly  darted  down  the  street, 
followed  by  her  companion,  to  where  a  carriage  was  in  waiting,  into 
which  they  hastily  jumped  and  drove  off. 

Upon  Tommy's  coming  from  the  store,  and  not  seeing  the  ladies 
he,  in  his  simple-mindedness,  forgot  to  look  to  the  infant,  but  went 
on  towards  home,  thinking  that  he  had  made  a  good  speculation  ; 
nor  did  he  miss  little  Charlotte  until  he  arrived  at  the  door,  and  was 
about  to  take  her  out  of  the  carriage. 

He  ran  then  into  the  house,  crying  that  the  fairies  had  ran  away  with 
his  strawberry. 

His  mother  questioned  him  as  to  the  cause  of  his  outcry,  when  he 
informed  her  of  all  he  knew  concerning  the  disappearance  of  the  child, 
at  the  same  time  giving  her  the  change  which  he  had  received  from  the 
grocer. 

Mrs.  Fay  fainted  when  she  became  aware  of  her  loss  ;  but  upon 
recovering  she  rushed  into  the  street,  exclaiming  : 

"  My  child — my  beautiful  child,  where  is  it  ?" 

Immediate  search  was  made  in  every  direction  in  the  neighborhood, 
but  in  vain.  Mary  returned  home,  and  sat  weeping,  as  Edward 
entered. 

"  For  God's  sake,  what  is  the  matter  ?"  he  cried,  hurriedly  approach- 
ing his  wife. 

She  raised  her  head,  and  looking  him  in  the  face,  with  eyes  filled 
with  tears,  exclaimed,  "  Our  child  is  lost — it  has  been  stolen  !" 

Edward  uttered  a  cry,  and  staggered  into  a  chair  ;  when  quickly 
rising,  he  cried  :  "  How  know  you  ?  Is  there  no  trace  left  by  which 
we  can  find  it — not  one  clue  ?'' 

"None,"  replied  Mary  ;  and  she  related  the  circumstance  of  the 
disappearance  of  little  Charlotte,  word  for  word,  as  she  had  received 
it  from  Tommy. 

"  Curse  him  !"  cried  Edward,  for  the  moment  forgetting  himself  in 
his  excitement  ;  and  he  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  and  groaned. 

Mary  trembled  as  she  heard  him  utter  the  words.  A  dread  came 
over  her,  for  which  she  could  not  account. 

Edward  hastily  arose  and  rushed  from  the  house.     He  traversed 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  81 

street  after  street  in  his  useless  search,  occasionally  asking  those  he 
met  if  they  had  seen  a  woman  with  a  child  in  their  walk.  He  was 
laughed  at  by  some,  others  hastily  drew  aside  to  avoid  him,  thinking 
from  his  wild  look  and  apparent  anxiety,  that  he  was  insane.  He 
thus  continued  his  search  until  a  late  hour,  when  on  coming  up  Broad- 
way, near  the  spot  where  now  stands  the  Broadway  theatre,  he  stopped 
a  young  man  whom  he  met,  and  anxiously  asked  the  same  question  he 
had  asked  so  many  upon  that  eventful  evening. 

The  misery  depicted  upon  his  countenance  was  like  balm  to  the 
soul  of  the  villain  that  stood  before  him.  How  he  exulted  in  the  suc- 
cess of  his  stratagem.  Header,  it  was  Fank  Seten  whom  Edward 
had  asked  that  heart-rending  question.  Seten  was  unknown  to  Edward 
Fay,  personally  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  the  latter  had  been  pointed 
out  to  the  former,  by  his  friend  Henry  Courtlandt,  some  months 
previous,  giving  him  the  advantage.  Seten  answered  in  the  negative, 
at  the  same  time  asking  him  in  a  sympathizing  voice,  ''  What  was  the 
matter  ?"  adding,  "you  appear  to  be  in. great  trouble." 

Fav  burst  into  tears  and  said,  "  Some  cruel  person  has  stolen  my 
child." 

11  Come,  come,"  soothingly  cried  Frank,  at  the  same  time  placing  his 
arm  around  Edward,  "  you  must  not  take  it  so  much  to  heart." 

A  new  idea  having  flashed  across  his  mind,  that  if  he  could  lead  his 
victim  to  drink  (which  he  thought  might  be  easily  done  in  his  agitated 
state),  and  send  him  down  the  channel  of  intempcrence,  it  would  bo 
refining  upon  revenge.  With  these  thoughts  uppermost  in  his  mind,  he 
slipped  his  arm  into  that  of  Fay's,  saying,  "  Come  my  friend,  you  are 
greatly  agitated,   come   and  take  something  to  quiet  your  nerves." 

And  he  led  him  unresistingly  into  one  of  those  dens  where  the 
fiendish  crew  of  Lucifer  meet  ;  the  presiding  genius  being  a  representa- 
tion of  his  Satanic  majesty  himself ;  or,  in  other  words,  one  of  those 
painted  palaces,  made  beautiful  and  grand  by  the  glare  of  gaslight, 
and  the  tears  of  suffering  mothers,  wives  and  children,  which  are  used 
as  drops  of-  essence  to  mix  with  each  glass  of  liquor  that  is  poured 
down  the  throat  of  the  inebriate. 

There,  dear  reader,  in  that  hell,  surrounded  by  tiplers,  enticed  in  by 
a  friend,  stood  the  temperate  Edward  Fay.  A  place  where  he  had 
never  stood  before — at  a  public  bar! 

Frank  called  for  some  brandy,  at  the  same  time  inviting  his  com- 
panion to  do  the  same. 

Edward  made  no  reply,  but  stood  as  if  stupified. 

The  landlord  asked  him  what  he  would  have,  but  received  no  answer 
but  a  bewildered  look.  Upon  which  he  poured  out  a  quantity  of 
brandy  into  a  tumbler  and  placed  it  before  him. 

Frank  raised  his  glass  to  his  lips,  his  companion  mechanically  did 
the  same,  as  if  unconscious  of  what  he  was  doing,  and  drank  off  the 
brandy  at  a  draught. 

He  soon  became  more  composed,  and  at  the-  request  of  Seten  he 
related  in  what  manner  the  child  had  been  stolen. 

Frank  endeavored  to  cheer  him  up  with  the  assurance  that  he  would 

6 


82  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

soon  find  it,  and  invited  him  to  take  another  drink,  with  which  he 
complied. 

After  inducing  him  to  drink  several  glasses,  Frank  informed  his 
companion  that  they  must  separate  for  the  present,  as  he  had  some 
business  of  a  private  nature,  to  which  he  must  attend.  At  the  same 
time  telling  him  that  lie  would  be  glad  to  meet  him  upon  any  other 
evening,  and  shaking  hands  with  each  other  at  the  door,  they  parted. 
Fay  staggering  towards  his  home  much  intoxicated. 

Upon  his  arrival,  what  was  the  horror  of  his  wife,  to  perceive  his 
situation.     She  fell  upon  her  knees  before  him  and  sobbed  aloud. 

"  Oh,  anything  but  this.  Oh,  God,  in  Thy  infinite  mercy  deign  to 
save  him  from  the  fate  of  the  drunkard." 

As  she  clung  to  him  he  rudely*  thrust  her  aside  with  his  foot,  and 
reeled  into  the  adjoining  room  where  he  slept,  and  throwing  himself 
on  the  bed  was  soon  asleep. 

Long  did  Mary  Fay,  with  sorrowful  heart,  weep  for  her  lost  child 
and  the  curse  that  had  come_  upon  her  husband.  If  it  could  not  be 
conquered  at  once — and  she  shuddered  as  she  thought  of  the  miseries 
of  the  drunkard's  family — she  came  to  the  determination  to  speak  to 
him  in  the  morning,  and  endeavor  to  extract  a  promise  from  him  to 
drink  no  more,  thinking  that  he  would  not  break  his  word  to  her, 
muttering  to  herself,  "  He  will  not  lie,  he  is  the  soul  of  honor  itself." 
And  falling  upon  her  knees,  she  prayed  that  God  would  bless  her 
efforts,  and  then  lay  down  to  obtain  some  repose. 

Edward  tossed  restlessly  in  feverish  dreams.  He  dreamed  that  he 
beheld  his  dead  father's  mangled  remains  upon  the  ground.  His  face 
was  turned  upward,  looking  with  a  pitying  eye  upon  him.  He  saw  the 
form  of  his  mother,  arrayed  in  white,  pointing  with  a  sorrowful  look  at 
his  father,  when  she  uttered  the  following  words  : — 

Listen,  my  son,  to  what  I  say, 

Thou  wilt  be  tempted — go  not  astray  ; 

Avoid  the  intoxicating  bowl, 

Or  thou  art  ruined,  body  and  soul. 

Ages  gone  by,  when  the  Deity  above 

Smiled  on  this  world  of  peace  and  love, 

In  the  dark  abodes  there  met  a  hellish  band, 

To  drive  peace  and  happiness  from  the  land. 

'Twas  there  that  Satan  first  gave  birth 

To  the  demon  Intemperance,  that  scourge  of  earth. 

The  surest  ruin  of  mankind, 

The  destroyer  of  the  body  and  the  mind. 

'Tie  the  key  to  all  crimes  in  the  calendar  shown, 

It  nurtures  vice,  and  sends  it  forth  full  grown. 

From  small  petty  crimes,  to  cold-blooded  murder, 

It  pauses  not  there,  but  goes  a  step  still  further, 

Driven  to  desperation,  having  gone  too  far  to  mend, 

A  self-invented  death  will  be  the  end. 

A  pistol,  poison,  or  the  fierce  rushing  tide, 

lie  ends  his  miserablo  life  by  suicide. 

Suclu  i»  the  end  of  him  who  is  to  rum  a  slave, 

lie  drops  before  his  time  into  a  drunkard's  grave. 

Listen,  my  son,  to  what  I  say, 

Touch  not  the  wine-cup — go  not  astray. 


THE  CHTP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  83 

As  she  concluded  these  words,  she  gradually  faded  from  his  sight  ; 
when  waking  with  outstretched  arms,  he  cried  : — 

"Stay  mother,  stay.     Do  not  leave  me." 

But  perceiving  that  it  was  but  a  dream,  he  lay  thinking  upon  the 
singularity  of  it  until  morning  ;  when,  springing  up  he  bathed  his 
aching  and  fevered  temples  in  cold  water,  which  made  him  feel  some- 
what refreshed. 

It  was  with  a  downcast  look  that  he  met  the  gaze  of  his  lovely  wife, 
who,  seating  herself  beside  him,  in  the  most  tender  tone  supplicated 
him  never  to  drink  any  more — let  his  troubles  be  what  they  would, 
never  to  turn  to  the  poison-cup  for  relief  ;  rather  seek  comfort  above 
and  look  to  Him  who  alone  could  bring  peace  to  the  troubled  soul. 
11  Observe  the  misery,"  she  added,  "  every  day  seen  in  our  streets. 
Forms  that  were  once  men,  but  now  fallen  beneath  the  brute,  with 
swollen  and  bloated  countenances,  ragged  clothing,  and  penniless. 
They  stand  with  bleared  eyes,  gazing  into  the  rum-shop,  ready  to 
barter  their  soul's  salvation  for  one  glass  of  rum,  to  sink  them  still 
lower  in  degradation." 

Edward  promised  that  lie  would  touch  it  no  more.  But  did  he  keep 
his  promise  ?  Xo.  His  palate  had  tasted  the  poison,  and  his  resolu- 
tion was  too  weak  to  resist  it.     He  became  its  slave. 

I  have  seen  a  whole  audience  in  tears  on  beholdiug  the  fictitious 
misery  of  Uncle  Tom,  as  represented  upon  the  stage.  They  have 
shown  evident  signs  of  indignation  at  the  tyrant  Lagree,  his  master, 
as  he  so  unfeelingly  utters,  "  Come  here,  nigger,  you  are  mine,  body 
and  soul."  What  one  amongst  that  whole  number  of  people  would 
I  one  tear  for  the  real  miseries  they  daily  meet  in  our  street 
Scarcely  a  day  (Misses  over  their  heads,  but  they  greet  with  a 
smile  or  shake  of  the  hand,  one  that  daily  dispenses  a  more  terrible 
slave-holder  than  the  one  mentioned  in  the  work  of  Mrs.  Stowe;  that 
which  holds  the  soul  as  well  as  the  body  in  slavery — Alcohol.  Dealt 
out  by  him  whom  they  take  by  the  hand.  The  presiding  genius  of 
Intemperance — the  rumscller. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

Oh  !  how  I  love  the  ocean,  to  be  upon  its  briny  bosom  when  mad- 
dening winds  do  arise  the  tempestuous  billows,  which  toss  and  boil  like 
some  seething  cauldron.  I  have  stood  upon  the  prow,  when  the 
mountain  wave  has  come  down  upon  our  gallant  bark  with  destroying 
force,  threatening  fell  destruction  ;  I  have  felt  a  wild  and  daring 
energy  infused  into  my  being,  as  our  ship  would  rise  triumphantly,  as 
if  with  magic  wing,  and  ride  harmless  over  the  boisterous  billow;  I 
have  walked  the  deck  upon  a  calm,  still  night,  with  the  bright,  full 
moon  over  head,  casting  its  silvery  rays  upon  the  water,  giving  it  the 


84  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

appearance  of :  one  vast  mirror,  reflecting  back  the  tall  spars  and  sails 
of  our  vessel  upon  its  surface.  Then  it  was,  that  I  thought  of  my 
careless  life — of  my  erring  ways,  the  pale  and  anxious  face  of  my 
distant  mother  would  rise  before  me,  with  a  pitying  and  supplicating 
look,  as  if  admonishing  me  to  cease  my  reckless  life  ;  when  walking  thus 
in  the  midnight  watch,  with  all  .nature  as  it  were,  laying  in  sweet  repose 
around,  I  have  prayed  to  that  God,  to  whom  my  tender  mother  has  so 
often  prayed  for  my  soul's  salvation,  I  felt  my  heart  grow  light,  and  I 
have  felt  a  better  and  a  happier  man. 

Forgive  me,  dear  reader,  for  wandering  from  my  story  ;  but  old 
scenes  will  sometimes  recur  to  my  memory. 

The  vessel  in  which  our  friend,  Will  Sykes,  put  to  sea  was  des- 
tined to  cruise  in  the  Mediterranean.  Faithfully  had  that  old  tar  kept 
his  promise  of  reformation,  which  he  had  given  to  Mrs.  Fay.  It  was 
with  considerable  self-constraint  that  he  had  avoided  going  to  the  grog- 
tub,  when  the  drum  rolled  to  call  the  seamen  to  receive  their  daily 
rations  of  spirits,  but  at  such  times,  he  would  utter  a  prayer,  for 
strength  of  mind  to  resist  the  temptation. 

Upon  a  beautiful  day,  which  was  drawning  near  its  close  ;  that  portion 
of  the  twenty-four  hours  in  which  the  thoughtless,  careless,  generous 
sailor  is  allowed  the  most  freedom — the  dog-watch — all  restraint  for  the 
moment  being  taken  off,  he  amuses  himself  as  best  suits  him.  Many  a 
joke  is  banded  from  one  to  another  ;  tricks  are  played  by  shipmate  upon 
shipmate,  which  are  generally  received  by  the  victim  with  a  good  grace. 
It  was  the  hour  when  Will  loved  to  take  his  Bible.  That  precious 
present  of  his  kind  friend,  when  the  toils  and  cares  of  the  day  were 
over,  and  read  chapter  after  chapter  from  it,  and  wonderiiigly  cry, 
"  What  love  !  what  charity  for  a  sinful  world  I" 

Upon  the  day,  to  which  we  call  the  attention  of  our  reader,  just  as 
the  sun  was  setting  in  the  west  amid  a  bank  of  clouds,  tinged  with  a 
golden  hue,  which  cast  a  brilliant,  glittering  light  upon  the  waters, 
Will  was  sitting  between  the  guns,  with  his  Bible  open  before  him, 
attentively  reading.  He  paused  as  he  thought  of  his  absent,  kind 
friends,  and  fervently  did  he  pray  for  them.  Alas  !  how  little  did  he 
imagine  how  much  they  stood  in  need  of  prayer. 

At  this  moment,  a  party  of  mischievous  sailors  came  running  along 
the  deck,  knocking  his  book  from  his  hand,  and  ran  forward,  laughing. 

Will  meekly  picked  up  his  treasure,  and  putting  it  into  his  bosom  in 
a  low  voice,  humbly  uttered  the  words,  "  Forgive  them,  Master,  they 
know  not  what  they  do,"  and  descended  to  the  lower  deck. 

It  is  usually  the  custom  with  vessels  of  war,  when  they  are  upon 
their  cruising  station,  to  shorten  sail  each  evening,  not  being  bound  to 
any  particular  port,  they  are  not  in  any  hurry  to  proceed  on  their 
journey. 

Will  had  scarcely  arrived  upon  the  lower  deck,  when  he  heard  the 
shrill  chirup  and  winding  whistle  of  the  boatswain  and  his  mates,  and 
then  the  loud,  hoarse  call  of  u  All  hands  reef  topsails,"  as  it  was 
uttered  from  their  lips. 

A  general  movement  now  took  place  among  the  crew,  each  and  all 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  85 

hastened  to  their  stations,  which  having  been  accomplished,  and  the 
first  lieutenant  having  taking  command  (which  he  always  did  upon  such 
an  occasion),  he  raised  his  trumpet  to  his  lips,  and  the  cry  resounded 
along  the  decks,  "  Man  the  royal  and  top  gallant  clewlines." 

"  All  manned,  sir." 

"  Haul  taut,  in  royals  and  top  gallant  sails.  Haul  down  the  flying 
jib.  Man  the  weather  topsail  braces,  reef  tackles  and  buntlines," 
again  came  from  the  quarter  deck  in  loud  tones,  from  the  first  lieute- 
nant. 

"  All  manned,  sir,*'  was  the  reply. 

"  Haul  taut  ;  round  in  the  weather  braces  ;  let  go  the  topsail 
halliards  ;  haul  up  the  reef  tackles  and  buntlines.  Lay  aloft  top  men. 
Take  two  reefs  in  the  topsail." 

No  sooner  was  the  word  given  to  lay  aloft,  than  the  rigging 
resembled  a  bee-hive,  with  its  clustering  bees,  each  man  endeavoring  to 
outstrip  the  other,  in  gaining  their  stations  upon  the  yard,  where  they 
quickly  reefed  the  sail,  and  hasten  to  descend  to  the  deck  again. 

The  word  now  being  given  to  man  the  topsail  halliards,  which  being 
done,  the  words  issued  from  the  trumpet,  "  Haul  taut  ;  walk  away," 
and  the  shrill  tones  of  the  life-inspiring  life  and  the  stamping  of  feet, 
keeping  time,  was  heard  for  a  moment,  as  the  topsails  arose  gracefully 
fluttering  in  the  breeze. 

Having  accomplished  this  piece  of  nautical  duty,  the  watch  was  set, 
and  silence  reigned  over  the  vessel,  as  she  took  her  lonely  way,  cleaving 
the  billows  of  the  mighty  deep. 

Will  belonged  to  that  portion  of  the  crew,  who  had  the  watch  below. 
The  moon  was  shining  brightly,  inclining  to  the  west,  the  vessel  was 
upon  the  starboard  tack,  heading  to  the  northward.  The  hour  of  nine  had 
arrived — announced  by  the  bell  striking  two.  A  dark  cloud  had  arisen 
from  the  horizon,  and  had  ascended  high  into  the  heavens,  which  gave 
tokens  of  a  squall.  The  officer  of  the  deck  had  aroused  the  crew,  to 
be  readiness  to  meet  the  emergency.  A  low  groaning  sound  could  be 
heard  as  it  approached,  tearing  up  the  water  in  its  fury,  and  sending 
it  through  the  air  in  showers.  It  came  down  like  a  destroying  ava- 
lanche, or  a  maddened  war  horse,  threatening  fell  destruction  upon  the 
devoted  ship.  Striking  her  with  all  its  force  broad  on  the  beam,  it  hurled 
that  large  vessel  (which  resembled  some  great  leviathan  of  the  deep), 
upon  her  side.  What  a  grand  sight  was  there  for  an  artist.  The 
moon  shining  brightly  on  one  side,  with  a  smooth  sea,  while  on  the 
other  the  storm-cloud  revelled  triumphantly,  amid  devastation  and  deso- 
lation. The  officers  and  the  men  clinging  to  the  guns  and  rigging,  as 
they  felt  that  their  ship  was  settling  still  lower  and  lower  in  the  water, 
threatening  them  with  a  watery  grave,  when  they  were  aroused  by  a 
cry,  that  was  heard  above  the  howlings  of  the  storm. 

"  What  fear  ye  ?  Ye  are  in  the  hands  of  Him  who  is  ever  with  you 
in  the  darkest  night,  or  in  the  broad  glare  of  day, — in  the  storm  as 
well  as  in  calm.     Turn  your  thoughts  to  Him." 

Twaa  Honest  Will,  who  had  rushed  upon  deck,  and  springing  upon 
a  gunslide,  stood  there  with  halt  streaming  in  the  wind  ;  and  the  moon 


86  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

shining  full  upon  his  face,  lighted  it  up  with  an  inspiring  brightness, 
the  terror-stricken  crew  gazing  upon  him  in  wonder. 

Having  uttered  those  words  to  draw  their  attention,  he  continued, 
in  simple  and  touching  lauguage,  with  the  following  prayer — 

"  Oh,  Most  Mighty  and  Merciful  God,  Thou  who  hast  power  upon 
the  sea  as  well  as  upon  the  land,  deign  to  look  down,  with  a  pitying 
eye  and  outstretched  hand,  upon  our  storm-lashed  bark,  and  with  thy 
saving  love  and  mercy,  spare  us,  that  we  may  live  to  acknowledge  thy 
mercy,  and  to  glorify  thy  holy  name.  But,  should  it  please  Thee,  in 
thy  all-wise  and  unerring  judgment,  to  cut  us  off  from  this  life,  to  enter 
upon  the  life  to  come,  grant  that  we  may  meet  the  dictates  of  Thy 
will  without  repining,  through  the  love  of  Him  that  died  to  save  a  sin- 
ful world.     Amen." 

The  words  thus  feelingly  uttered  by  the  old  sailor  had  scarcely  died 
away,  carried  upon  the  wings  of  the  terrific  gale,  far  off  to  the  leeward, 
when  a  gust  of  wind,  more  powerful  in  its  fury  than  what  had  hitherto 
assailed  them,  came  upon  them  with  maddening  force,  burying  the 
strained  and  groaning  ship  still  deeper  in  the  waves,  threatening  instant 
destruction  to  all  on  board,  when  a  loud,  sharp  sound,  resembling  the 
firing  of  artillery,  was  heard,  and  every  sail  that  was  set  upon  the  ship, 
burst  from  the  yards,  and  blew  away  to  leeward,  thus  allowing  the 
vessel  to  gain  an  upright  position,  and  saving,  miraculously,  the  devo- 
ted ship,  by  the  will  of  an  all-merciful  God,  in  answer  to  the  humble 
petition  that  had  been  addressed  to  the  throne  of  mercy. 

Three  cheers  went  up  from  grateful  hearts,  at  the  divine  interposi- 
tion of  Providence,  and,  with  light  hearts/the  crew  proceeded  to  clear 
the  wreck,  and  get  everything  snug  and  ship-shape,  to  ride  out  the 
gale. 

Will  was  held  in  great  awe  by  many  of  the  simple-minded  sailors, 
who  actually  believed  him  to  be  the  saviour  of  the  ship,  and  it  was 
with  great  trouble  that  he  convinced  them,  that  it  was  through  the 
divine  will  of  the  Most  High,  that  they  had  been  snatched  from  des- 
truction. He  drew  a  little  circle  of  those  hardy  men  around  him,  each 
evening,  who  listened  attentively  to  him,  as  he  would  read  passages  of 
the  New  Testament  to  them,  and  discourse  of  and  explain  to  them  the 
love  and  sufferings  of  the  Redeemer,  for  the  salvation  of  their  souls, 
and  his  efforts  were  blessed,  in  many  a  case,  by  the  truth  gradually 
dawning  upon  their  darkened  minds,  making  a  paradise  of  the  choked- 
up  wilderness. 

If  that  angelic  woman,  even  amid  her  own  misery,  had  seen  the 
growth  of  the  seed  that  she  had  planted  in  the  heart  of  the  paor,  mis- 
guided sailor — as  it  grew  up  in  abundance,  and  scattered  its  fruits 
around  on  all  sides — she  would  have  exclaimed,  with  lightened  heart, 
"  Father,  I  thank  Thee." 

"  Homeward  bound  !"  What  an  exhilarating  sound.  What  fond 
associations  it  brings  to  memory,  and  causes  the  blood  to  rush  swiftly 
and  joyfully  to  the  heart,  at  the  anticipation  of  the  glad  meeting  with 
distant  friends.  Such  was  the  sensation  felt  by  Honest  Will,  as  the 
hoarse  voice,  echoed  py  his  mates,  called,  "All  hands  up  anchor  for 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  87 

the  United  States."  And  as  each  day  went  by,  he  would  gaze  upon 
the  setting-sun,  and  say,  "  One  day  less  between  our  meeting." 

Upon  his  arrival  in  the  city,  he  anxiously  sought  for  his  friends  ;  but 
he  could  gain  no  trace  of  them,  they  having  removed  from  the  house 
in  which  they  lived  when  he  departed.  Nor  could  those  that  dwelt 
there  give  him  any  intelligence  concerning  them.  He  did  not  meet 
with  them  for  many  years.  He  had  fully  determined  to  go  to  sea  no 
more.  He  intended  to  obtain  employment  at  his  mechanical  trade, 
which  he  had  learned  in  his  youthful  days,  before  the  demon  intempe- 
rance had  taken  possession  of  him.  After  some  search,  he  was  success- 
ful. He  obtained  board  in  a  religious  private  family,  where  he  dwelt 
contented,  and  much  good  has  he  been  the  means  of  doing.  Many 
a  man  who  had  given  way  to  the  damning  influence  of  alcohol,  who  is 
now  walking  our  streets  with  proud,  elastic  step,  can  boast  of  his 
reformation,  from  hearing  his  simple,  pleading  voice  uttered  to  him 
in  supplicating  language,  humbly  begging  him  to  avoid  and  cast  from 
him  the  poison  cup. 

Some  two  years  after  he  had  given  up  the  sea,  having  occasion  to 
be  in  the  lower  part  of  the  city,  one  afternoon,  he  was  met  by  a  party 
of  sailors,  who  accosted  him  with — 

"  Hello  !  how  do  you  do,  Will  ?     How  do  you  get  along  ?" 

Having  answered  to  their  congratulations,  he  was  invited  to  accom- 
pany them  to  the  corner,  to  take  a  drink. 

Up©n  his  refusing,  they  took  him  by  the  arm,  crying — 

'•  O,  Gammon  !  we  haven't  met  you  here  for  a  long  time,  so,  you 
must  come  and  have  a  drink." 

Will,  now  making  himself  heard  by  all,  cried — 

"  Avast,  there,  shipmates  !  I've  drank  long  enough  with  you. 
Now,  come  and  take  a  drink  with  me." 

"  Agreed,  agreed,"  was  echoed  from  one  to  the  other,  and  those 
thoughtless  men,  who  thought  it  was  their  duty  to  drink  and  spree  as 
much  as  it  was  in  their  power,  while  on  shore,  followed  our  old  friend 
up  the  street,  who,  stopping  before  a  crockery  store — before  which 
stood  a  pump — entered,  and  borrowing  a  pitcher  and  tumbler,  from 
the  lady  who  was  in  attendance  upon  the  customers — went  to  the 
pump,  where,  filling  the  pitcher  with  water,  he  cried — 

"  Come,  shipmates,  come — join  me  in  a  drink,  that  will  inspire  you 
with  new  life.  'Twill  not  cloud  the  brain,  nor  gnaw  the  heart-strings ; 
drink  of  this  to  overflowing,  and  your  intellect  will  be  clear — no  fever- 
ish, throbbing  head-ache  after  it.  Come,  drink,  boys.  Here's  to  the 
cold  water  system." 

As  he  concluded  those  words,  he  tossed  off  the  glass  of  water  ;  and 
greatly  to  the  amusement  of  the  bystanders,  who  had  assembled  in  a 
crowd  to  listen  to  his  words,  he  dealt  out  to  each  sailor  a  glass  of  the 
sparkling  water,  telling  each,  as  he  handed  it  to  him,  to  make  that  his 
constant  beverage.  He  returned  the  pitcher  to  the  store,  and  bidding 
adieu  to  his  old  shipmates,  took  his  way  up  the  street. 

He  had  not  proceeded  far  when  he  overtook  a  young  female,  whose 
sorrowful   countenance,  prompted  him  to  address  her  in  the  following 


88  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

language.     "Are  you  in  distress,  Miss?   if  you  are,  and  there  is  any 
thing*  that  I  can  do  to  aid  you,  I  will  do  it  willingly." 

The  girl  looked  up  into  his  face,  where  she  beheld  something  in  the 
benevolent  look  that  met  her  gaze,  which  told  her  that  he  would  be 
her  friend,  and  bursting  into  tears,  she  exclaimed  in  a  choking  voice, 
"Alas,  my  lot  is  a  hard  one." 

He  soothingly  replied,  "  If  I  am  not  too  bold,  tell  me  your  troubles, 
probably  I  may  be  able  to  relieve  them." 

"I  thank  you  for  your  kindness,"  replied  she,  "but  I  fear,  that  that 
is  impossible."  And  she  voluntarily  related  her  story  as  they  walked 
along. 

"  A  few  years  since,  amid  that  wreck  of  fortunes,  which  made  so 
many  of  our  merchants  bankrupts,  my  father  doing  an  extensive  busi- 
ness withstood  the  crash  for  a  time,  as  house  after  house  failed  around 
him,  but  alas,  it  came  his  turn  to  succumb  to  the  overwhelming  blow ; 
upon  arranging  his  affairs  he  found  himself  beggared.    He  struggled  for 
a  while  against  his  fate,  having  obtained  a  situation  as  head-clerk  in 
the  store  of  a  merchant,  whom  he  had  obliged  when  in  prosperity,  and 
who,  by  good  fortune  had  surmounted  the  shock.     As  time  passed  on, 
he  began  to  give  evident  signs  that  he  had  become  addicted  to  drink- 
ing, for  he  would  come  home  at  night  so  much  intoxicated,  that  he  was 
incapable  of  helping  himself.     My  poor  mother,  whose  health  being 
delicate,  soon  gave  way  under  this  saddest  of  all  evils  that  had  yet 
fallen  upon  us,  and  she  drooped  day  by  day,  and  died  with  a  prayer 
upon  her  lip,  that  God  would  in  his  mercy,  arrest  my  poor  father  in 
his  downward  course  to  ruin.     After  her  death  he  became  still  worse, 
and  was  soon  discharged  by  his  employers:   upon  this  event  happening, 
he  became  one  of  the  loiterers   around   the   bar-room,  ever  ready  to 
drink  with  anybody  that  would  treat   him.     We  were  forced  to  move 
into  wretched  apartments.     One  evening  he  was  accompanied  home  by 
a  young  man  whom  he  introduced  to  me  by  the  name  of  Henry  Court- 
landt,  who  looked  upon  me  with  such  a  bold  staring  look  that  1  shud- 
dered.    After  shaking  me  by  the  hand  which  he  had  taken,  I  withdrew 
to  the  opposite  side  of  the  wretched  room  and  seated  myself,  he  still 
keeping  his  eyes  upon  me.     After  remaining  for  a  short  time  silent, 
he  said  to  my  father,  "Jennings  this  is  dry  business,  suppose  that  we 
have  a  drop  of  brandy,"  my  father  readily  assented,  when  upon  receiving 
some  money  from   Courtlandt,  he  took  a  bottle  and  went  out;  he  had 
scarcely  left  the  room   when  the  young  man   approaehed  me,  and  at- 
tempted to   throw    his   arms    around   me.     I   started   up,  exclaiming, 
'what  mean  you,  sir,'  and  pushed  him   from  me  with  ail  the  strength 
I  was  master  of.     My  father's  foot-step,  being   heard  at  the   door,  he 
sat  down   with  a  scowling  look  at  me,  muttering   -  you  will  rue  this 
treatment  yet.'    My  father  entered,  and  they  sat  down  together  and 
drank,  but  I  observed  that  the  young  man   drank  lightly,  while  my 
father  drank  large  quantities,  and  soon  was  very  drunk,  falling  over  on 
the  floor.    Courtlandt  again  approached  me,  but  looking  him  straight 
in    the  eye,  I  told  him  that   if  he  did  not   immediately    depart  from 
the  house  I  would  cry  out.     Fearing  that  I  would  do  so,  which  would 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  .  DRY  DOCK.  89 

cause  him  some  trouble,  lie  went  out  muttering.  In  the  morning, 
when  my  father  was  somewhat  sober,  I  informed  him  that  I  had 
been  insulted  by  the  young  man,  that  came  home  with  him  the  night 
previous. 

"  '  Impossible/  cried  he,  '  insulted  by  Henry  Courtlandt.  I  do  not 
believe  it,  there  is  not  a  more  gentlemanly  young  man  in  town.  He 
would  not  insult  any  one,  so  there  must  be  some  mistake." 

11 1  saw  that  it  would  be  useless  to  endeavor  to  convince  him  at  that 
time,  so  I  ceased  to  try. 

"And  such  is  the  life,"  continued  the  girl,  "  that  I  have  led  ever 
since,  exposed  to  his  insults  at  every  visit,  I  have  been  so  far  enabled  to 
escape  the  snares  that  he  has  laid  for  me." 

As  she  concluded  she  looked  up  into  the  old  man's  face  and  con- 
tinued. "I  am  very  thankful  to  you  sir,  for  your  kind  attention,  but  I 
fear  we  must  part  here,  as  I  reside  up  this  alley." 

As  Will  had  listened  to  her  tale,  he  had  formed  the  resolution  to 
endeavor  to  save  that  young  creature  from  ruin.  When  addressing 
her  he  asked,  "  will  you  permit  me  to  enter  with  you,  I  would  like  to 
see  your  father."' 

She  hesitated  for  a  moment,  when  consenting,  he  followed  her  up  a 
dark  alley,  and  entered  a  miserable  apartment  in  one  of  the  rear  build- 
ings, where  amid  wretchedness  dwelt  a  man  and  his  daughter,  who  had 
once  been  received  in  the  highest  circles.  Upon  entering,  Will  was 
introduced  by  the  girl  to  her  father,  who  was  seated  upon  a  broken 
chair,  brooding  moodily  over  his  misfortunes:  by  chance  he  was  sober. 
Will  seated  himself  beside  him  and  entered  into  conversation,  drawing 
him  out  by  degrees.  Before  he  left  he  had  convinced  him  of  his  own 
folly,  and' of  the  clanger  of  his  only  child;  when,  rising,  he  exclaimed, 
"  were  I  sure  that  he  intended  harm  to  her  I'd  shoot  him." 

"  Vou  would  do  better  by  driving  him  from  your  door;  but  you  can 
easily  ascertain  upon  his  next  visit;  when  he  endeavors  to  ply  you  with 
liquor,  pretend  to  drink  until  you  are  apparently  drunk,  then  you  will 
be  enabled  to  see  the  result." 

Agreeing  to  the  proposition  of  Will,  Mr.  Jennings  observed,  "  I  will 
try  it  this  very  night,  for  I  expect  him  here." 

Will  now  took  his  departure,  promising  to  call  again  during  the 
evening. 

When  Courtlandt  arrived,  he  as  usual,  had  some  brandy  brought  in, 
and  frequently  invited  Jennings  to  drink,  who  adroitly  threw  it  over 
his  shoulder.  As  the  night  drew  on  he  appeared  very  drunk,  when  fall- 
in-  over,  he  lay  helpless  upon  the  floor.  He  had  not  been  in  this  situ- 
ation but  a  few  minutes,  when  Courtlandt  approached  Sarah,  and  saying, 
"  look  here,  my  girl,  1  have  wasted  time  enough  upon  you,"  darted 
upon  her,  and  placing  his  hand  over  her  mouth  to  prevent  her  crying 
out,  endeavored  to  throw  her  down.  He  was  startled  by  a  noise,  on 
looking  round,  he  perceived  her  father  approaching  him  with  a  pistol 
levelled  at  him.  He  sprang  into  the  middle  of  the  floor,  and  as  Jeuniugs 
was  about  to  fire  at  him,  he  dexterously  knocked  up  his  arm,  which,  as 
the  pistol  went  off  caused  the  ball  to  lod^e  in  the  ceiling.     Courtlandt 


90  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

hastily  drew  a  dirk  knife  from  his  pocket,  and  buried  the  blade  in 

the  old  merchant's  heart,  muttering  as  he  did  so,  "  take  that  d n 

you,"  and  he  darted  out  of  the  house  just  as  Will  was  entering,  who 
tried  to  arrest  his  steps,  but  the  young  man  thrust  him  aside,  and 
sprung  into  the  street.  Will  entered  and  beheld  the  girl  hanging  over 
the  dying  body  of  her  father.  As  Will  knelt  beside  him,  he  with  great 
effort,  uttered  the  words,  "Protect  her,"  pointing  to  his  daughter,  and 
ceased  breathing.     He  was  a  corpse. 


CHAPTER    XI Y. 

Many  years  have  gone  by.  Years  of  patient,  enduring  suffering  and 
misery,  to  Mrs.  Fay.  Since  that  fatal  day,  upon  which  Edward  was 
induced  to  partake  of  that  glass  of  brandy,  he  had  sunk  low  in  the 
scale  of  human  nature.  In  the  early  part  of  December,  1852,  about  a 
year  previous  to  the  opening  of  our  tale,  we  find  them  living  in  a 
wretched  abode,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Dry  Dock.  Mary  had  given 
birth  to  two  more  children,  one  of  them  a  boy,  now,  about  nine  years 
of  age  ;  the  other,  yet  an  infant  in  arms.  Faithful  old  Jenny  had  still 
clung  to  her  young  mistress  through  all  her  misery;  and,  in  many 
an  instance,  when  keen  biting  hunger  had  appeared  among  the 
wretched  inmates  of  that  desolate  home,  she  had  traversed  the  streets, 
asking  alms,  to  procure  them  food.  At  the  present  time,  by  her  labor 
— taking  in  washing  for  some  workmen,  and  the  united  efforts  of  little 
Tommy,  who  gained  a  trifle  by  selling  chips — they  managed  to  keep 
from  starving.  Edward  would  be  absent  from  home  for  days  toge- 
ther ;  and,  since  his  unfortunate  failing,  Crazy  Tom,  who  had  ceased 
to  mourn  for  his  lost  strawberry,  of  whom  no  trace  could  be  gained, 
had  clung  to  Edward,  in  his  downward  career,  and  accompanied  him 
in  his  wanderings,  to  watch  over  him,  as  he  said,  feeling  that  his  idiotic 
intellect  was  superior  to  that  of  the  drunkard's. 

The  downward  course  of  the  inebriate  has  been  placed  so  much 
before  the  public,  in  all  its  debasing  misery — and  it  has  been  so  truth- 
fully illustrated  by  Mr.  C.  W.  Clarke,  in  the  drama  of  the  Drunkard, 
upon  the  Museum  stage,  and  the  miserable  life  of  the  unfortunate  men 
who  become  addicted  to  drinking,  bears  such  a  resemblance  one  to  the 
other — that  it  appears  like  the  same  story  told  over  and  over  again. 
Conscious  of  this,  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  to  pass  over  many 
years  of  Edward  Fay's  misguided  life,  aud  take  him  up  at  the  period 
mentioned  at  the  commencement  of  this  chapter.  After  acquainting 
the  reader  with  a  few  occurrences  which  happened  daring  the  interven- 
ing years,  I  will  continue  my  tale. 

When  Mrs.  Lisle  had  obtained  (lie  infant  daughter  of  Edward  Fay, 
she  lei:  the  city,  remaining  absent  for  a  month,  until  all  iuquiry  had 
ceased  concerning  the  child.  She  had  seen  advertisements,  in  the  pub- 
lic  papers,  requiring  information   of  the  lost  one,  from  day  to  day. 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  91 

When  having  read  them,  she  would  look  upon  the  sweet  face  of  the 
infant,  and  smilingly  say,  "  They  may  look  in  vain."  She,  at  length, 
returned  to  the  City,  and  placed  it  in  the  Alms  House,  giving  out, 
that  its  parents   were   dead.     Upon  arriving  at  her   own   house,  in 

Lispenard  street,  she  learned  that  M ,  her  friend  and  protector 

so  long,  had  died  abroad,  and  orders  were  left  for  her  to  remove,  which 
she  was  compelled  to  do,  and  finding  herself  alone  in  the  world,  with- 
out a  friend,  she  drank  still  deeper,  and  gradually  sank  lower  and 
lower,  until  she  was  glad  to  herd  with  the  lowest  of  her  sex. 

Our  old  friend  Will  having  attended  to  the  funeral  of  Sarah  Jeu- 
ning's  father — took  her  under  his  protection,  and  in  time  became  her 
husband,  of  which  she  has  never  repented  ;  finding  him,  although  much 
older,  a  kind,  attentive  man.  They  now  reside  in  avenue  D,  with  a 
smiling  little  family  growing  up  around  them.  The  Seten  family  still 
reside  in  their  splendid  mansion,  in  Bond  street.  Frank  appears  com- 
paratively happy  in  the  society  of  his  lovely  wife.  Having  accom- 
plished his  revenge,  and  succeeded  in  sending  Edward  down  the  path 
of  ruin,  he  was  contented.  Eveleen  Seten  was  flattered  by  all  for  her 
beauty,  and  had  become  one  of  those  spoiled  and  heartless  leaders  of 
fashion.  By  Frank's  advice,  she  had  never  held  communication  with 
her  mother,  he,  fearing  that  her  connection  becoming  known  to  the 
world,  would  bring  disgrace  upon  his  house  ;  therefore,  she  was  left  in 
ignorance  of  the  whereabouts  of  her  daughter.  Their  son,  William, 
had  grown  up  a  tall  stripling,  beloved  by  all  that  knew  him,  so  diffe- 
rent was  lie  from  his  father,  gentle,  kind-hearted  and  forgiving,  doing 
good  to  all  that  lay  in  his  power. 

Old  Seten  still  lived,  but  had  become  much  altered.  He,  after  a 
long  life  of  fraud,  villainy  and  remorse,  had,  through  the  divine  mercy 
of  a  forgiving  God,  sought  the  true  path  of  righteousness.  Having 
been  forced,  through  his  morose  and  cross  temper,  to  exchange  his 
little  attendants  so  frequently,  Frank  had,  at  length,  obtained  him  one 
from  the  Alms  House,  some  two  or  three  years  previous  to  the  time 
of  which  we  are  writing. 

When  the  little  Rosa  first  entered  upon  her  duties,  of  attending  upon 
the  old  man,  she,  to  his  surprise,  bore  all  his  ill-humor  with  so  much 
resignation,  that  it  often  puzzled  him  how  she  could  command  her 
temper.  One  day,  having  been  more  cross  than  usual,  he  drove  her 
from  the  room.  The  room  of  Rosa  was  adjoining  that  of  the  old 
man,  where  she  could  be  ever  ready  for  a  call  when  wanted.  After  her 
exit  from  his  apartment,  he  caught  the  low,  muttering  sounds,  as  of 
one  in  prayer.  He  gently  approached  his  door,  and,  on  softly  open- 
ing it,  beheld  the  beautiful  girl  upon  her  knees,  fervently  offering  up  a 
prayer  for  him* — he  who  was  so  cruel  to  her.  His  heart  smote  him, 
and,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  a  holy  sensation  passed  through 
his  breast — a  feeling  of  sorrow  and  repentance. 

At  the  conclusion  of  her  touching  prayer,  which  had  brought  a 
tear  into  his  eye,  he  called  her  Into  his  room,  and  asked  her  kindly, 
why  she  prayed  for  him. 

Rosa  meekly  replied,  that  it  was  her  duty  to  pray  for  everybody. 

u  What  !"  cried  he,  M  for  those  that  daily  abuse  you  V 


92  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

"  God  has  commanded  us  to  pray  for  our  enemies,"  replied  she,  in  a 
low  voice  ;  and  falling  upon  her  knees  before  him,  she  seized  his  hand, 
and,  in  supplicating  tones,  continued — 

"Oh,  Mr.  Seten,  for  the  love  of  the  meek  and  holy  Redeemer, 
pause  before  it  is  too  late,  and  cast  from  you  all  worldly  thoughts,  and 
look  up  imploringly  to  that  God,  (whom,  in  every  action  of  our  sinful 
lives,  we  rebel  against,  but  who  alone  can  save  us  from  endless  tor- 
ments,) and  ask  for  forgiveness." 

Seten  trembled  as  the  girl  proceeded. 

When  she  had  concluded,  he,  in  great  agitation,  said — 

"  I  fear  there  is  no  hope  for  me." 

"  My  dear  sir,  the  first  step  to  repentance  is,  the  acknowledgment  of 
our  guilt.  And  has  not  the  Redeemer  in  his  love,  given  to  a  wicked 
world  the  brightest  hopes,  when  he  said,  '  All  ye  that  thirst  after  right- 
eousness, come  unto  me  '  V 

And  thus  this  young  creature  led,  step  by  step,  that  hard-hearted, 
cross  old  man,  into  the  path  that  leads  to  true  happiness,  where  he  in 
time  found  peace  for  his  troubled  soul. 

Old  Seten  had  become  much  attached  to  her,  never  being  willing  to 
have  her  long  absent  from  him.  There  was  another  one  in  that  estab- 
lishment who  had  obtained  the  true  light  through  her  instrumentality. 
That  one  was  William,  who  had  listened  to  her  gentle  teachings.  It 
was  the  old  man's  delight  to  have  these  two  young  people  iu  his  room 
of  an  evening,  where  in  humble  prayer  they  would  thank  God  for  his 
mercies,  while  ever  and  anon  bursts  of  music  and  mirth  would  find 
their  way  into  that  room,  from  those  gay^,  thoughtless  beings  iu  the 
parlor,  who  surrounded  the  careless,  beautiful,  indolent  wife  of  Frank. 
Upon  evenings  when  there  was  no  company  at  the  house,  the  old  man, 
accompanied  by  Rosa  (who  was  allowed  to  sit  with  the  family  at  such 
times),  would  enter  the  parlor,  and  pass  the  evening  with  Frank  and 
his  lady,  and  many  an  effort  (aided  by  Rosa)  did  he  make  to  draw 
them  from  their  thoughtless  way  of  life,  but  hitherto  without  success. 

There  was  a  time  during  the  downward  course  of  Edward  Fay,  that 
had  men  not  been  so  selfish  and  uncharitable,  he  might  now  have 
been  a  blessing  to  his  family,  and  an  honorable,  humble  follower  of  his 
God. 

One  evening,  shortly  after  the  birth  of  our  little  hero,  as  our  worthy 
friend,  Will  Sykes,  was  returning  home  from  his  work,  on  turning  a 
corner  he  met  a  poor  miserable  object,  with  bloated  countenance,  drag- 
ging himself  tremblingly  along.  There  was  something  in  that 
marked  as  it  was  with  the  curse  of  intemperance,  which  seemed 
familiar  to  him.  Stopping  and  looking  steadfastly  into  his  face,  their 
eye-  met.  The  truth  flashed  across  his  mind  that  it  was  Edward  Fay, 
who  had  become  a  drunkard.  That  accounted  for  his  useless  search. 
He  accosted  him,  and  kindly  shook  hands  with  him,  and  putting  his 
arm  within  that  of  the  poor,  despised  inebriate,  accompanied  him  home. 
How  his  heart  suffered  for  the  miseries  too  plainly  depicted  upon  the 
pale  face  of  Mary,  as  he  met  her  gaze.  Long  and  beseechingly  did  he 
discourse  with  Edward  to  east  the  demon  from  hirn,  and  pointing  to 
the  slumbering  babe  in  that  suffering  woman's  arms,  continued, 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY    DOCK.  93 

"  Edward,  for  the  love  that  you  once  bore  for  her  who  sits  there  be- 
fore you,  and  the  duty  and  fatherly  care  which  you  owe  to  that  sleeping 
infant  lying  there,  pray  with  trustful  and  truthful  fervency  to  that  im- 
maculate being,  who  has  power  to  bring  relief  to  you  in  the  midst  of 
darkness,  that  He  will  shield  you  from  further  temptation." 

After  having  fervently  prayed  with  them,  he  left,  promising  to  call 
the  next  day. 

The  earnestness  of  the  old  man's  touching  language,  softened  the 
heart  of  the  miserable  man.  Scenes- of  early  life  arose  before  him  as 
he  looked  around  upon  the  miseries  of  his  family,  and  he  formed  the 
resolution  to  reform. 

On  the  following  morning  he  issued  from  the  house  with  the  sole  in- 
tention of  seeking  employment.  As  he  proceeded  through  the  streets 
he  met  Frank  Seten,  in  company  with  a  gaily  dressed  young  man,  who, 
upon  observing  Fay,  sneeringly  passed  him  by.  He  gazed  after  them, 
and  muttered — 

"•  What  a  fate  is  mine  !  It  is  maddening  to  be  thus  despised  by  my 
acquaintances.  If  I  meet  them  in  the  street,  they  look  at  me  with 
scorn,  or  pass  me  by  unnoticed.  I  am  pointed  at  as  a  drunkard. 
Alas  !  it  is  too  true — made  so  by  the  very  ones  who  now  deny  me  their 
company — led  on,  step  by  step,  from  fashionable  wine-drinking,  to 
whisky,  brandy,  gin,  until  the  damning  curse  of  the  rum-seller  is 
branded  on  my  brow.  I  will  reform,  and  become  a  temperate 
man." 

Full  of  these  thoughts,  he  took  his  way  to  the  yard  of  a  ship-builder, 
whom  in  former  years  he  had  worked  for.  Upon  asking  him  for  employ- 
ment, he  was  told  with  a  look  of  contempt  that  he  did  not  employ 
drunkards.  He  sought  employment  at  various  places,  but  not  succeed- 
ing, he  became  tired,  and  weary,  and  discouraged,  and  exclaimed — 

'"  May  the  drunkard's  curse  light  upon  thee — every  friend  turn  from 
nun  thee  as  they  would  the  poisonous  viper — all  mankind  conspire 
to  rob  and  cheat  thee — dollar  after  dollar  be  taken  from  thee,  until 
thou  art  as  poor  as  I  am.  May  keen,  biting  hunger  come  upon  you, 
and  force  you  to  become  a  common  beggar  in  the  streets — then  you 
will  complain  of  the  injustice  of  mankind,  and  then  the  drunkard  will 
laugh  at  your  misery." 

He  took  his  way  "to  one  of  the  low  haunts  where  he  spent  much  of 
his.  time.  Thus  was  an  opportunity  thrown  away  of  reforming  a  man, 
who  in  till  probability  would  have  become  once  more  a  kind  father  and 
a  tender  husband.  Men  should  be  more  charitable  in  their  dealings 
with  each  other.     We  will  now  return  to  our  tale. 

Upon  the  afternoon  of  a  cold  day  in  the  month  of  December,  Mrs. 
Fay  sat  with  her  infant  on  her  lap,  looking  sorrowfully  into  its  thin, 
pale  face.  Her  husband  had  been  absent  for  two  or  three  days,  with 
owtant  attendant.  Our  little  hero  was  out  selling  chips.  Her 
old  nnrse  had  gone  home  witli  some  clothes,  for  which  she  hoped  to  get 
the  money  to  purchase  their  evening  meal,  when  Mary  was  disturbed 
by  the  entrance  of  the  agent  from  whom  she  had  rented  the  apartment 
in  which  she  then  resided.     He  unfeelingly  informed  her  that,  as  she 


- 


$4 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 


owed  two  months'  rent,  if  she  was  not  able  to  pay  him  there  and  then, 
she  must  bundle  out  ;  and  looking  around  and  shrugging  his  shoulders, 
he  continued,  "  You  will  not  have  much  trouble  to  move  f  and  he 
hoarsely  laughed  at  his  own  witticism. 

Mary  told  him  that  it  was  not  in  her  power  to  pay  him  at  that  time, 
and  begged  him  in  supplicating .  tones  not  to  turn  her  into  the  street 
with  her  little  ones. 

He  replied,  "The  owner  of  the  buildings,  for  whom  I  do  business, 
demanded  the  rent  of  me,  and  he  must  either  have  it,  or  turn  such 
tenants  as  would  not  pay  it  into  the  street,  so  you  may  as  well  get 
ready  to  bundle.  If  you  don't  have  the  money  for  me  in  the  morning, 
I'll  have  a  bill  on  the  house."         » 

"Who 'is  the  owner?"  asked  Mary,  meekly. 

"  Mr.  Frank  Seten,  No. Bond  street,"  cried  he,  and  he  abruptly 

left  the  house. 

At  the  name  of  Frank  Seten  being  mentioned,  she  shuddered,  for 
why  she  could  not  tell,  and  as  she  sat  pondering  ever  her  situation,  she 
came  to  the  conclusion  to  see  him,  and  endeavor  to  get  permission  to 
remain.  Her  pride  at  first  rebelled,  as  the  memory  of  past  years  arose 
before  her,  but  she  thrust  it  back  as  it  ascended  to  her  brain,  with  the 
following  words  bitterly  expressed,  "  What  business  have  I  with  pride, 
the  drunkard's  wife  ?"  She  would  have  asked  her  old  friend  Will,  for 
sufficient  to  defray  the  rent,  but  that  she  well  knew  that  he  was  unable 
to  assist  her  further,  than  by  occasionally  coming  in  with  some  provi- 
sions. He  had  given  her  the  last  money  with  which  she  had  paid  her 
rent,  since  which  time,  he  had  been  sick  and  feeble,  and  as  old  age  was 
fast  growing  upon  him,  he  had  to  struggle  somewhat  hard,  to  keep  a 
shelter  over  his  family. 

Night  drawing  on,  and  Jenny  and  our  little  hero  having  entered,  by 
their  united  means  an  humble  supper  was  procured,  of  which  Mrs.  Fay 
could  scarcely  taste,  so  much  was  her  heart  wrung  with  her  misery. 

When  Tommy  had  concluded  his  humble  meal,  he  took  his  little  sister 
from  his  mother's  arm,  and  seating  himself  in  the  corner,  drew  the  folds 
of  his  torn  jacket  around  the  trembling  infant,  to  protect  it  from  the 
cold,  and  was  endeavoring  to  get  it  to  eat  a  bit  of  cake,  that  he  by 
chance  had  obtaiued  in  his  rounds,  and  had  saved  for  that  starving 
child,  which  was  perishing  for  the  want  of  the  nourishment,  that  it 
failed  to  received  from  its  mother's  breast. 

Mrs.  Fay  arose  with  a  firm,  determined  air,  and  addressed  Jenny  in 
the  following  words — 

•'  Mrs.  Craigie,  I  have  occasion  to  go  out  for  a  short  time." 

"  Oh  !  my  dear  leddy,  ye  manna  gang  out  fra'  the  house,  on  sich  a 
cauld  night  as  this  ;  it  maun  be  the  death  o'  ye." 

"  1  haw  occasion  to  go.  The  agent  has  hwn  here,  and  informed  me 
that  we  must  leave  the  house." 

"  Oh  !  the  hard-hearted  carl  ;  he  should  ha'  been  ducked  in  a  horse 
pond,  before  he  got  to  the  house  on  sich  a  brutal  errand.'1 

"They  are  not  to  blame  so  much  as  the  owners  of  real  estate,  who 
are  daily  seen  at  public  meetings  enforcing  reform,  and  giving  munificent 


THE  CHI?  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  95 

donations  for  charitable  purposes,  which  glare  and  dazzle  the  eyes  of 
the  world,  gaining  for  them  the  admiration  of  men  for  their  benevolence, 
at  the  same  time,  leaving  their  wretched  tenants  in  their  miserable 
abodes,  at  the  mere}-  of  ruthless  men  (who  have  no  sympathy  for  their 
fellow  creatures),  instead  of  attending  to  their  own  business,  they 
employ  others  to  do  this  disagreeable  duty." 

Thus  saying,  Mrs.  Fay  drew  her  thin,  scanty  robe  closely  around  her, 
to  protect  her  from  the  cold  winter's  blast,  and  issued  into  the  street. 

In  a  splendidly  furnished  parlor,  in  one  of  those  large  aristocratic 
looking  buildings  in  Bond  street,  upon  the  evening  of  which  we  speak 
of.  there  was  seated  around  a  glowing,  bright  coal  nre  in  a  grate, 
which  sent  a  genial  warmth  throughout  the  room,  a  family  party  con- 
sisting of  an  old  man,  his  son  and  daughter-in-law,  grandson,  and  a 
lonely  child  of  charity. 

'Twas  the  Seten  family,  who  were  without  company  that  evening,  and 
had  assembled  in  the  parlor. 

Tne  beautiful  Eveleen  sat  languidly  upon  the  ottoman.  They  were 
conversing  upon  the  subject  of  their  yearly  donations  to  different  chari- 
table institutions,  to  which  they  were  in*  the  habit  of  giving  good 
amounts  of  money  to  every  year,  as  the  holidays  came  around. 

11  Why  do  you  give  those  large  sums,  Eveleen  ?  Through  a  chari- 
table impulse,  or  what  ?"  inquired  old  Seten. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,  father,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  never  trouble 
myself  about  the  charity  part  of  it.  I  leave  that  part  of  it  to  those 
that  receive  the  money  from  us  for  that  purpose.  Another  thing,  the 
papers  speak  well  of  us,  which  gives  us  eclat  among  our  friends,"  and 
she  threw  herself  back,  as  if  greatly  fatigued  after  this  long  speech. 

"But  are  you  sure,"  continued  the  old  man,  "that  the  money,  which 
is  so  lavishly  bestowed  upon  those,  whose  duty  is  to  receive  it  for 
charitable  purposes,  is  given  to  those  for  whom  it  was  intended,  or  appro- 
priated to  their  own  use,  to  enrich  themselves  ?  I  believe  in  charities 
given  by  a  person's  own  hand  to  the  poverty-stricken  poor  ;  the  giver 
is  assured  that  his  object  is  obtained,  and  he  is  certain  that  they 
are  relieved." 

"  What  say  you,  William  ?"  asked  Eveleen  of  her  son,  who  had  been 
listening  attentively,  at  the  same  time,  gazing  upon  the  lovely  counte- 
nance'of  Rosa. 

William  started,  and  turning  to  his  mother,  lie  exclaimed — 

"My  dear  mother,  I  coincide  with  my  grandfather.  As  I  was 
returning  from  Williamsburg  last  evening,  my  way  led  through  one  of 
those  streets,  where  misery  and  wretchedness  abound  in  all  their  horror. 
I  observed  an'-open  door,  where  I  perceived  a  glimmering  light,  which 
depicted  to  my  view,  a  scene  of  desolation  seldom  met  with.  Within 
I  saw  an  aged  female,  with  her  head  drooping  upon  her  hands,  seated 
in  one  corner  ;  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  upon  a  broken  chair,  sat  a 
pale  faced  woman,  with  a  look  of  meek  resignation,  gazing  around 
upon  the  empty  apartment  ;  upon  her  lap  lay  a  sickly  infant,  whose 
thin,  gaunt  countenance  was  marked  with  that  sure  passport  to  eternity 
of  the  poor  man,  Poverty  ;  and,  upon  his  knees,  looking  up  into  her 


M 


THE  CHIP  Bj;  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK 


face  with  tearful  eyes,  was  a  boy,  some  nine  years  old.  As  I  was 
about  to  enter,  to  give  them  a  trine  to  relieve  their  wants,  I  heard  a 
footstep  approaching.  I  paused  for  a  moment,  and  I  observed  an  aged 
man  coming  towards  me,  with  a  basket  upon  his  arm.  I  retired  into 
a  recess  made  by  the  adjoining  building,  which  projected  farther  into 
the  street,  and  there  I  remained  until  he  had  arrived  on  the  spot,  and 
entered  the  room  into  which  I  had  been  looking.  I  then  stole  forth 
from  my  hiding-place,  and  peered  into  the  apartment.  The  old  man 
had  placed  the  basket  upon  the  floor,  from  which  he  had  taken  some 
food,  which  he  was  distributing  among  the  wretched  inmates,  who 
thankfully  received  it,  and  with  which  they  appeased  their  hungry 
appetites.  When  all  had  satisfied  their  hungry  stomachs,  the  fragments 
which  were  left,  were  carefully  lain  aside  to  form  the  morning  meal. 
The  old  man  knelt  down  among  them  and  prayed.  Thus  after  having 
satisfied  the  wants  of  the  body,  he  was  administering  comfort  to  the 
soul.  As  I  gazed  upon  this  picture,  and  listened  to  his  touching  lan- 
guage, which  was  sublime — sublime  in  its  simplicity,  a  tear  arose  in  my 
eye,  as  I  thought  of  the  wretchedness  unrelieved  in  this  great  city. 
Where  were  all  those  men  of  reform  ?  where  was  all  the  money  that 
was  daily  given  by  benevolent  individuals,  for  the  relief  of  indigence  ? 
Why  did  it  not  reach  its  destination  ?  How  was  it,  that  there  was  so 
much  misery  and  desolation  in  the  midst  of  plenty  ?  and  the  thought 
struck  me,  that  there  was  something  wrottg  concerning  public  charities. 

"  I  was  aroused  from  my  reverie  by  a  stir  in  the  room.  The  old  man 
had  risen  from  his  knees  and  was  taking  leave  of  those  inside.  I  stood 
confronting  him  as  he  came  from  the  house,  and  was  about  to  speak  to 
him,  when  he  adroitly  slipped  past  me  and  started  off  at  a  brisk  pace. 
I  followed  him.  determined  to  speak  to  him.  On  approaching  him  I 
said  '  Pardon  me,  I  would  speak  a  word  with  you/  " 

"  '  What  would  you  with  me,  young  sir  ? '  said  he,  stopping,  and 
answering  me  in  a  mild  tone. 

"  '  I  would  give  you  some  money  for  the  relief  of  that  wretched 
family  from  whom  you  have  just  come/  answered  I,  at  the  same  time 
proffering  a  roll  of  bills. 

"  '  My  dear  sir,  such  doings  are  the  cause  of  a  great  deal  of  suffer- 
ing, which  I  will  plainly  prove  to  you.  Should  I  accept  that  .money, 
how  easily  I  could  appropriate  it  to  my  own  use,  and  leave  them  still 
to  suffer  ;  you  would  walk  off  with  a  lighter  heart,  conscious  that  you 
had  been  the  instrument  of  doing  some  good,  but  how  deceived  you 
would  be.  Such  deceptions  are  carried  on  each  day.  Bestow  your 
charities  with  your  own  hand,  and  God  will  bless  you.' ; 

"  Saying  this  he  bid  me  good  evening,  leaving  me  with  the  full 
impression  of  the  truths  he  uttered." 

"  I  returned  to  the  wretched  dwelling,  but  found  it  closed.  That, 
dear  mother,  I  think  was  a  true  aet  of  charity." 

Eveleen  had  become  interested  in  the  tale,  and  at  the  conclusion  she 
said,  while  a  tear  moistened  her  eye,  "  Indeed  it  was,  do  you  know 
who  that  old  man  was,  my  son  V 

"  I  neglected  asking  his  name,"  returned  William. 


'  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  9t 

Eveleen  looked  towards  Rosa,  and  asked  her  what  was  her  opinion 
upon  the  subject  which  they  were  conversing  upon. 

"  My  dear  madam,'7  Rosa  replied,  "  I  fear  I  am  not  competent  to 
explain  my  views  upon  the  subject." 

"  Do,  do,"  they  all  cried.     Rosa  thus  enjoined,  began  : 

"  Charity  has  been  construed  into  so  many  forms,  that  it  has  lost  its 
intrinsic  beauties.  No  charity  is  true  that  is  given  with  a  selfish 
motive, — given  with  the  view  of  obtaining  the  world's  applause;  such 
is  ostentatious  charity;  for  Paul  says,  '  Though  I  bestow  all  my  goods 
to  feed  the  poor,  and  though  I  give  my  body  to  be  burned,  and  have 
not  charity,  it  profiteth  me  nothing,'  thus  clearly  proving  that  sym- 
pathy must  accompany  the  gift.  Money  given,  not  accompanied  by 
the  purest  feelings  of  the  heart,  (love  for  thy  neighbor)  caunot  be 
ascribed  to  anything  more  than  alms-giving.  Charity  is  composed  of  all 
the  finest  feelings  which  are  heaven-born.  How  the  beauties  of  religion 
are  distorted  by  the  unsympathizing  and  uncharitable  feelings  enter- 
tained by  one  sect  or  creed  against  another.  I  sincerely  believe  there 
is  do  true  religion  in  the  heart  of  the  individual  who  bears  hatred  to 
one  of  an  opposite  faith,  for  antagonism  cannot  dwell  with  love  ;  for 
has  not  the  Redeemer  commanded  us,  to  love  our  neighbor  as  we  love 
ourselves.  True  charity  cannot  be  better  exemplified  than  by  the  love 
which  we  suppose  is  buried  in  the  inmost  recesses  of  the  heart  of  a 
Christian  mother,  as  she  extends  her  care  over  her  tender  offspring. 
Even  that  is  tinged  with  the  selfish  feeling,  that  she  does  her  duty, 
which  mars  its  beauty.  True  charity  comes  nothing  short  of  Deity. 
That  feeling  which  prompted  our  Saviour  when  he  gave  himself  up  to 
suffer  for  a  sinful  world." 

Rosa  had  risen  in  her  anxiety  to  impress  her  auditors  with  the  truths 
that  she  uttered,  and  looking  around  upon  them  as  she  concluded, 
she  observed  their  admiring  looks  upon  her  ;  a  crimson  blush  over- 
spread her  face,  and  she  retired  from  the  room  in  confusion. 

Just  at  this  moment  there  was  a  ring  at  the  bell.  She  hastened  to 
the  door  and  opened  it,  where  she  observed  a  female  whose  pale  shiver- 
ing form  drew  words  of  pity  from  her  lips.  Inviting  the  stranger  to 
enter  the  hall,  she  asked  her  her  business. 

In  a  low  tone  the  intruder  said  "I  wish  to  see  Mr.  Frank  Seten."    - 

Rosa  bade'  her  wait  for  a  moment,  and  went  and  informed  that  gen- 
tleman of  the  woman's  wish,  who  immediately  arose  and  came  to  the 
door.  Upon  arriving  there  he  started  back  at  beholding  the  features 
of  one  whom  he  had  so  deeply  injured. 

"Mr.  Seten,"  said  the  woman,  "we  have  met  before  when  I  was  in 
better  circumstances,  now  I  am  destitute.  I  dwell  in  one  of  your  build- 
ings, without  the  means  of  paying  my  rent.  Your  unfeeling  agent  has 
given  me  orders  to  leave  the  premises.  Should  I  do  so,  I  and  my 
children  will  have  no  shelter,  no  home,  but  the  public  street  in  this 
wintry  weather.     I  have  come  to  ask  you  permission  to  remain/' 

She' was  answered  by  a  fiendish  laugh,  and  then  the  following  words: 
"  Mary  Manvers,  or  rather  Fay,  it  is  a  long  time  since  wre  met.  At  our 
parting,  I  uttered  the  word  '  Beware  V    Too  well  had  you  reason.    For 

1 


98  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK: 

know,  that  I  am  the  author  of  all  your  husband's  woes.  'Tvvas  I  that 
led  your  husband]  step  by  step,  to  misery,  until  he  became  a  blighted 
mass  of  putrefaction,  a  burden  to  himself.  All  this  was  through  my 
means,  for  when  he  became  unfit  for  my  company,  I  had  hired  agents 
employed  to  drag  him  down  to  distruction.  All  this  I  have  done 
to  satisfy  my  revenge  for  the  blow  he  gave  me  upon  the  occasion  of 
our  first  meeting.  Know  then  that  this  hour  is  sweeter  to  me  than 
every  pleasure  experienced  by  me  during  my  whole  life.  The  proud 
Mary  Man  vers  humbly  asking  to  remain  in  a  humble  room."  And  he 
again  laughed  hoarsely. 

"No,  begone,  and  rot  in  the  streets  upon  a  dunghill,  if  it  suits  you 
best,"  said  he. 

Mrs.  Fay  looked  at  him  as  she  said.  "  Then  may  God  forgive  you 
as  I  do,  for  you  have  an  account  to  render  before  Him  of  your  deeds 
done  in  the  flesh." 

On  concluding  those  words  she  turned  and  left  the  door,  taking  her 
lonely  way  through  the  cold  blast  as  she  traversed  the  streets,  on  her 
way  back  to  her  wretched  family. 

Frank  stood  gazing  after  her  for  a  moment,  when,  on  turning 
around,  he  was  surprised  to  observe  Rosa  upon  her  knees  before  him, 
who  addressed  him  in  the  following  words  : 

"  Mr.  Seteu,  as  you  hope  for  mercy  at  the  judgment  seat  of  God, 
grant  that  poor  woman's  request." 

Frauk  endeavored  to  thrust  her  out  of  the  way,  but  she  still  clung  to 
fo\mt  saying  :  "  Do,  I  implore  you,  for  the  sake  of  her  suffering  child- 
ren. Oh,  only  think,  should  your  wife  and  son  be  in  the  same  position, 
and  she  humbly  seeking  a  shelter,  would  you  not  think  the  man  flinty- 
.hearted  that  would  refuse  them  ?" 

There  was  something  so  touching  in  the  pleading  voice  of  the  girl 
that  it  raised  a  feeling  of  pity  in  the  heart  of  him,  where  pity  was  never 
felt  before,  and  he  hastily  said  : 

"  Well,  well,  rise.  I  will  give  orders  to-morrow  to  my  agent  to  let 
them  have  the  room  rent  free." 

Rosa  arose  from  her  knees,  exclaiming,  "  Bless  you— bless  you  for 
that !"  and  the  family  soon  after  retired  to  rest. 

"  Fire  !  fire  I  fire  !"  rang  out  on  the  still  night  air,  from  the  mouths 
of  men.  Loud  sounded  the  stroke  of  the  district-bell,  as  the  devouring 
element  committed  its  fell  ravages  upon  all  that  came  in  its  way. 
'Twas  the  splendid  mansion  of  the  Setens,  which  had  by  some  means 
caught  fire  in  the  lower  part.  A  crowd  had  gathered  in  front  of  it  just 
as  Frank  Seten  and  the  lovely  Eveleen  rushed  from  the  burning  build- 
ing, followed  by  William,  half  dressed,  who,  upon  looking  around, 
uttered  a  loud  cry  of  despair,  and  said,  "My  grandfather  and  Rosa 
will  perish,"  and  was  about  to  rush  into  the  flames,  when  he  was 
caught  by  the  hand  of  his  father,  who  exclaimed  :  '   t 

"Tis  useless,  William  ;  you  will  but  perish  yourself,  without  saving 
them."  .  .      .  .-  ■<• '   . 

At   this   moment   two   men   ran   up  the  stoop,  the  toremost  one 

exclaiming,  "  Where  are  they  Y' 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  99 

They  were  quickly  told  in  the  back  room  upon  the  first  floor. 

Waiting  for  no  further  information,  the  man  who  had  acted  as 
speaker  dashed  through  the  burning  door  followed  by  his  companion. 
They  soon  returned,  the  former  bearing  the  insensible  form  of  the  old 
man  upon  his  shoulder,  and  the  young  girl  clung  to  him  with  her  arms 
around  his  neck. 

On  approaching  Frank,  he  deposited  his  burden  in  his  arms,  William 
taking  Rosa  from  his  neck  ;  and  the  poor,  miserable  object  who  had 
done  such  good  service,  looked  up  into  Frank's  face,  and  addressed  him 
in  the  following  words  : 

"  Won't  you  give  me  enough  to  get  a  drink  ?" 

What  were  Frank's  feelings  as  his  eyes  met  that  look  ?  To  gaze 
upon  the  wretched  being  whom  he  had  been  the  means  of  ruining,  for 
no  other  purpose  than  to  gratify  a  feeling  of  revenge.  That  look 
haunted  him  for  many  months.  He  felt  in  his  pockets  and  drew  forth 
a  piece  of  silver  which  he  gave  him,  and  Edward  Fay,  followed  by 
Crazy  Tom,  hastened  from  the  spot  to  purchase  more  rum. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

The  fire  was  soon  extinguished  by  the  Fire  Department,  without 
much  damage  having  been  done.  The  Seten  family  removed  to  one  of 
their  new  buildings  in  the  vicinity  of  Tomkins  Square,  where  we  shall 
leave  them  for  the  present. 

When  Edward  Fay  started  off,  followed  by  his  companion,  he  pro- 
ceeded towards  his  home.  Near  to  the  place  where  he  resided  there 
was  one  of  these  miserable  rum-shops,  where  large  quantities  of  poison 
were  daily  dealt  out  to  the  miserable  inhabitants  that  lived  in  the 
neighborhood.  The  degraded  female — degraded  by  the  use  of  alco- 
holic drinks,  could  be  seen  to  enter  unblushingly  in  the  broad  glare  of 
day  with  her  bottle,  and  if  without  money,  she  could  obtain  that  which 
she  came  after  in  exchange  for  any  article  of  clothing,  for  all  and  every 
thing  was  fish  to  Old  Tom's  net.  The  poor  ragged  child  of  Mary,  too 
small  to  reach  the  top  of  the  counter,  could  be  seen  to  enter  that  den 
of  darkness,  and  go  up  to  the  bar  and  lisp  with  its  infant  lips  the 
acursed  words,  "  Half-pint  of  brandy."  And  that  old  fiend  could  be 
seen  dealing  out  to  that  boy,  coolly  and  deliberately  with  his  murderous 
hand,  and  send  him  home,  perhaps  with  the  instrument  of  death  to 
either  one  or  the  other  of  his  wretched  parents.  Dear  reader,  is  it  not 
a  sickening  picture  ?  Alas,  it  is  too  true.  There  are  many  such  dens 
in  this  great  city,  yet  men  will  oppose  the  passage  of  a  prohibitory  law, 
thereby  degrading  themselves  by  the  degradation  of  their  fellow-crea- 
tures, for  the  accumulation  of  riches.  He  that  can  gaze  upon  a 
drunken  man  without  pity,  has  no  self-esteem,  nor  does  he  glory  in  the 
works  of  God. 

In  this  before-mentioned  den,  Edward  Fay  spent  much  of  his  time, 


100  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

dozing  away  the  day  in  moody  stupidness,  ever  ready  to  drink  when 
asked.  It  was  a  remarkable  thing  that  Crazy  Tom,  who  always 
accompanied  him  into  every  low  vile  haunt  which  he  entered,  never 
could  be  induced  to  taste  the  damning  poison;  clearly  illustrating  that, 
with  his  deranged  and  weakened  intellect,  he  had  more  sense  than  those 
that  can  boast  of  iheir  reason. 

'Twas  to  this  place  that  Edward  directed  his  steps.  Upon  his 
entrance  he  was  greeted  with  a  scowl  from  old  Tom,  until  showing  the 
piece  of  money,  which  he  had  received  from  Frank  Seten,  the  counte- 
nance of  Tom  changed  to  a  smile,  and  he  remarked  that  "  sleepy  Ned 
had  luck." 

This  drew  the  attention  of  all  that  were  in  the  place  upon  him,  who 
nocked  around  him  like  a  parcel  of  vampyres  ready  to  get  their 
suckers  in. 

'•  What  will  you  have,  my  lark  ?"  cried  Tom. 

"  Brandy,"  replied  Edward. 

Upon  its  being  placed  before  him  he  poured  out  a  tumblerful  and 
drank  it  off  at  a  breath. 

The  rest  taking  it  for  granted  that  he  stood  treat,  had  all  called  for 
liquors  of  various  kinds  and  drank. 

Upon  Tom's  counting  heads  he  threw  down  three  cents  before 
Edward,  exclaiming,  "  That  makes  it  right." 

Fay  pushed  it  back,  saying,  "  It  is  not  worth  picking  up.  Give  me 
some  more  brandy." 

He  again  filled  a  glass  and  drank  it  off ;  he  then  seated  himself 
among  the  rest  who  were  clustered  around  a  small  stove,  passing  jokes 
with  each  other." 

They  had  not  been  seated  long  when  some  one  of  them  wished  for 
another  drink,  when  Edward  rose  and  addressed  the  landlord. 

'•'  Tom,  it's  getting  late  now,  if  you'll  let  us  all  have  a  drink  we'll  go 
away  quietly  and  peaceably.     What  say  you  ?" 

"  To  the  Devil  with  you.  Do  you  suppose  that  I  keep  my  liquor 
to  give  away.  Go  get  money,  that's  the  talk.  Money  makes  the 
mare;  go  bring  me  money  and  you  can  have  rum.  I  don't  keep  rum  to 
give  to  loafers. 

Edward,  maddened  by  the  last-mentioned  word,  rushed  from  the 
shop,  followed  by  Crazy  Tom. 

When  Mrs.  Fay  turned  from  the  door  of  the  Seten  mansion  she  took 
her  way  towards  her  wretched  home.  To  be  turned  from  it,  as  poor 
as  it  was,  at  this  inclement  season,  exposing  her  children  to  the  cold, 
caused  her  to  shudder.  Upon  her  arrival,  she  took  the  infant  from 
Jenny,  and  seated  herself  in  her  accustomed  place,  where  it  was  her 
wont  to  sit  and  rock  her  child,  and  brood  over  her  misery. 

Jenny  had  lain  down  to  gain  a  little  rest,  of  which  she  stood  so  much 
in  need  after  her  daily  toil.  Tommy  was  kneeling  at  his  mother's  feet, 
looking  into  the  face  of  his  little  sister,  whose  countenance  had  assumed 
a  death-like  pallor,  laying  motionless  upon  its  mother's  lap,  who  sat, 
swaying  her  body  to  and  fro.  Her  thoughts  were  not  upon  herself, 
nor  those  around  her  ;  they  were  with  that  poor,  wretched,  misguided 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  101 

man,  to  whom  she  had  closely  clang,  sharing  his  miserable  life  so  many 
years  patiently,  without  a  murmar.     Where  was  he  now  ? 

As  these  thoughts  were  busy  in  her  mind,  she  heard  a  noise  of 
approaching  footsteps.  The  door  was  rudely  thrust  open,  and  there 
upon  the  threshold  stood,  with  bloodshot  eye  and  bloated  countenance 
(the  man  who  should  have  been  the  protector  of  that  family)  the 
author  of  their  misery. 

Gazing  around  for  a  moment,  in  search  of  something  that  he  could 
dispose  of  ;  nothing  met  his  view  but  the  ring  upon  his  wife's  finger — 
that  ring  which  he  had  given  to  her  in  early  life,  when  he,  in  the  full 
pride  of  upright  manhood,  had  led  that  poor  heart-broken  woman  to 
the  altar. 

He  darted  forward,  and  seizing  her  hand,  tore  it  from  her  ringer. 

Mary,  in  a  supplicating  tone,  cried,  "Dear  Edward,  spare  me  that  ; 
I  have  retained  it  through  all  the  scenes  of  my  wretched  life,  even 
when  hunger  assailed  me  and  my  children.  I  have  clung  to  it  as  a 
token  which  brought  to  my  memory  the  few  brief,  sunny  hours  of  my 
early  happiness,  before  the  tempter  came  and  destroyed  our  Eden." 

Those  words  touched  the  fallen,  degraded  man  as  she  uttered  them, 
and  he  gazed  upon  her  pale,  care-worn  countenance  for  a  momeut,  with 
a  look  of  remorseful  sorrow.  At  the  conclusion  he  muttered,  "  'Tis  too 
late,"  and  hoarsely  laughing,  rushed  from  the  house.  He  took  his 
way  for  the  gin-shop  of  old  Tom.  Upon  entering,  he  threw  the  ring 
upon  the  counter,  exclaiming,  "  There,  will  you  give  me  some  rum  for 
that?" 

Tom  picked  up  the  ring  and  looked  carefully  at  it.  "  It's  good 
gold,"  said  he.     "  Who  did  you  steal  this  from  ?" 

Those  words  still  more  maddened  Edward,  whose  ruffled  temper 
could  ill  brook  to  be  called  a  thief,  and  furiously  springing  at  Tom,  he 
caught  him  by  the  throat  ;  a  struggle  now  ensued.  Those  in  the  store 
severally  siding  with  the  combatants  ;  some  crying,  "  Go  it  Tom  ;" 
others  crying,  "  Give  it  to  him,  Ned  ;   sleepy  Ned  for  ever." 

Old  Tom,  being  the  strongest,  had  Edward  down,  and  was  choking 
him.  At  this  moment,  Crazy  Tom,  who  had  been  looking  on,  sprang 
forward  and  seized  the  ring  which  lay  unnoticed  upon  the  counter,  at 
the  same  time  clutching  a  bottle  by  the  neck,  and  before  he  could  be 
prevented  by  those  that  were  standing  around,  dealt  a  tremendous 
blow  upon  the  head  of  the  rum-seller,  who,  with  a  groan,  relaxed  his 
hold  upon  Edward's  neck,  and  fell  back  upon  the  floor. 

"What  made  you  do  that  ?"  cried  one  of  the  by-stauders  to  Crazy 
Tom. 

He  replied,  pointing  upwards.  "  The  Good  Man  up  there  told  me 
to  strike  liiin  and  kill  him,  so  that  he  could  not  poison  auy  more 
people." 

As  he  concluded  those  words  he  darted  from  the  shop. 

Edward  Fay  stood  gazing  at  the  dying  rum-seller  with  folded  arms, 
as  he  lay  upon  the  floor.  Tom  had  become  delirious,  gazing  upon 
vacancy  with  distended  eyes,  and  screaming  in  pitiful  and  supplicating 
tones,  for  some  person  to  draw  a  curtain  before  the  hideous  visages  of 


102  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCE. 

his  victims,  whom  he  fancied  were  looking  with  distorted  and  grinning 
exultation  depicted  upon  their  countenances,  at  their  hopes  of  revenge 
upon  him. 

Who  could  envy  that  man  his  death-bed  tortures  for  all  the  hidden 
treasures  that  were  buried  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth  ? 

While,  as  we  have  said,  Edward  was  gazing  upon  this  horrible 
picture,  two  policemen  entered,  and  asked,  "  Who  was  the  perpetrator 
of  the  bloody  deed  ?" 

They  were  informed  that  Edward  and  his  companion  had  done  it. 

Edward  was  taken,  unresistingly,  to  the  station  house,  and  lodged 
by  himself  in  a  cell. 

Upon  Crazy  Tom's  leaving  the  rum-shop,  he  darted  with  lightning 
speed  through  the  streets  towards  his  home.  Entering  hastily,  ho  gave 
the  ring  to  Mrs.  Fay,  'and  crouched  down  in  the  corner  writh  a  wild 
air.  The  wretched  wife  endeavored  to  draw  from  him  the  whereabouts 
of  her  husband,  but  in  vain.  Tom  only  answered  by  pointing  towards 
the  door. 

Presently,  there  was  heard  voices  of  men  approaching,  when  half  a 
dozen  policemen  entered,  and  seeing  Tom  in  tlie  corner,  advanced  and 
took  hold  of  him. 

Mrs.  Pay  inquired  hurriedly  of  one  of  them  what  was  the  matter. 

One  of  them  replied.  "Your  husband  and  this  fellow  here  (poiuting 
at  Tom)  have  killed  a  man." 

She  heard  no  more,  but  fell  fainting  upon  the  floor. 

When  she  returned  to  consciousness  the  room  was  deserted  by  all 
but  herself,  her  boy,  and  old  Jenny,  who  had  taken  the  infant  from  the 
floor  upon  which  it  had  fallen  when  its  mother  had  fainted.  Its  little 
soul  had  fled  to  a  purer  world,  to  dwell  with  its  God,  free  from  the 
miseries  of  this  life.  When  Mrs.  Fay  had  been  made  acquainted  with 
the  fact  she  gazed  upon  it  for  a  moment,  with  a  countenance  expressive 
of  her  feelings,  and  imprinting  one  last  kiss  upon  its  little  forehead, 
seized  our  little  hero  by  the  hand  and  rushed  from  the  house. 

Edward  had  not  long  been  in  the  cell  when  seating  himself,  he,  for 
the  first  time  in  many  years,  began  to  reflect  upon  the  situation  of  his 
family  and  himself.  As  scene  after  scene  of  his  miserable  eareer  arose 
to  his  view,  he  was  seized  with  a  burning,  maddening  pain  aeross  his 
temples  which  caused  him  to  cry  out  : 

M  My  brain  burns,  as  if  it  was  broiling  in  molten  lead,  and  now  a 
shivering  seizes  on  my  frame,  cold  as  the  icy  hand  of  death.  I  think 
I'm  carried  high  up  in  air,  through  endless  spaee,  with  magic  speed. 
Now,  1  fall  towards  the  earth,  with  lightning  swiftness.  1  shall  be 
dashed  to  atoms.  Save  me  1  Save  me  !  Help  !  help  !  or  I 
perish." 

And  he  fell  upon  the  brick  floor  of  his  prison,  motionless,  attacked 
by  the  delirium  tremens. 

After  remaining  quiet  for  a  few  moments,  he  started  to  a  sitting 
posture,  and  continued — 

"  Hell  itself  could  not  invent  a  deed  of  half  such  dreadful  note. 
Inhuman  devil  as  thou  art,  not  content  with  my  ruin,  but  you  must 


THE     CHir     BOY     OF     THE     DRY     DOCK.  103 

drag  my  wife  arid  children  to  destruction.  Spare  them.  Spare  them. 
See  !  see  !" 

And  lie  pointed,  in  his  delirium,  to  the  opposite  side  of  his  cell, 
crying — 

"  They  drag  them  to  the  very  brink  of  the  precipice.  Xow,  they  are 
about  to  hurl  them  to  the  bottom.  Struggle  with  them,  Mary.  Strug- 
gle with  them  for  a  moment.  Mary,  Mary,  I  come.  Oh,  spare  her. 
Spare  her.  Alas,  it  is  too  late  !  See  !  see  !  They  hurl  her  off,  and, 
now,  my  children,  they  hurl  them  off,  too.  Madness  !  And  I  not 
there,  to  save  them.  See  their  mangled  forms,  as  they  descend,  how 
they  strike  against  each  projecting  rock,  tearing  their  tender  flesh. 
Xow,  now,  they  reach  the  bottom,  a  blighted  mass,  there  to  lay  and 
blacken  in  the  summer's  sun.  Fate,  do  your  worst,  life  has  no  more 
pleasures  for  me.  I'll  join  in  all  kinds  of  horrid  deeds,  and  laugh  at 
human  misery.'' 

And  he  laughed  hysterically — a  hoarse  laugh — then  threw  himself, 
motionless  upon  the  floor. 

Mrs.  Fay,  at  this  moment,  entered  the  cell,  with  little  Tommy.  On 
her  perceiving  the  prostrate  form  of  her  husband  upon  the  floor,  she 
advanced  and  knelt  beside  him,  exclaiming — 

'•  Edward,  dear  Edward.*' 

"  Disturb  me  not,  good  stranger,'-'  cried  he  :  ;<  I'm  doomed  to  lay 
upon  this  spot  for  the  space  of  one  thousand  years." 

11  Oh,  God,  have  mercy  upon  him,"  cried  she,  "  and  keep  his  senses. 
Edward,  Edward,  do  you  not  know  me?" 

Edward  Fay  sprang  to  his  feet,  gazing  into  her  face,  and  cried — 

"  That  voice  !,J 

She  asked  him  again,  if  he  did  not  kuow  her,  alarmed  at  his  wild 
look. 

"  Know  you  ?  Yes.  I  would  know  you  among  ten  thousand,  were 
I  blindfolded,  could  I  but  hear  that  voice.  I  thought  you  dead  ;  it 
must  have  been  some  horrid  fancy  of  my  disordered  brain.  Hark  !" 
he  cried,  as  if  listening.  "  I  hear  the  desperate  mob  upon  my  track  ; 
their  voices  are  still  ringing  in  my  ears.  Mary,  let's  fly  to  some 
remote  corner  of  the  earth,  where,  all  alone,  we  will  be  free  from  the 
treachery  of  deceitful  men  ;  where  we  will  not  be  influenced  by  them, 
to  turn  from  the  path  of  rectitude.  Let  us  fly  to  some  lone  spot, 
where  we  will  not  be  hampered  by  the  forms  and  customs  of  society  ; 
we  can,  untramelled  pick  out  our  own  way,  and  be  our  own  judge 
between  right  and  wrong.     Come,  I  say." 

"  Where  would  you  take  me,  deal  Edward  V  cried  the  heart-broken 
woman,  thinking  it  was  best  to  humor  his  disordered  fancy. 

"  To  some  secluded  spot,  far  from  the  hum  of  human  voices,  where 
the  rich  and  fertile  earth  is  covered  with  green  grass  and  sweet  bloom- 
ing flowers.  Your  couch  shall  be  of  fresh-gathered  moss,  soft  as  the 
softest  velvet  cushions  ;  your  covering  be  the  blue  ethereal  sky,  where, 
each  morning,  you  will  be  awakened  by  the  sweet  notes  of  the  fea- 
thered choristers  of  the  grove,  instead  of  the  hateful  noise  of  cities. 
There,  and  there  alone,  we  will  be  happy." 


104.  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  TEE  DRY  DOCK. 

"  I  fear  it  would  not  be  safe,  dear  Edward,  hi  that  wild  place," 
cried  she,  sobbing,  and  still  humoring  him. 

"  Safe  !  It  would  be  safer  to  be  in  the  wild,  tempestuous  ocean — 
battling  with  its  huge  waves,  with  the  elements  combined,  in  all  their 
bursting  fury,  threatening  destruction  upon  your  devoted  head  ;  or  in 
the  dark,  untrodden  forest,  with  lions,  tigers  and  panthers  howling 
around  in  savage  wildness — than  to  be  surrounded  by  luxurious  habi- 
tations, reared  in  all  the  arrogance  of  pampered  pride,  with  vice,  in  all 
its  gorgeous,  glittering  show,  to  lure  you  on  to  destruction.'' 

At  this  moment,  his  eyes  fell  upon  Tommy,  and,  starting  back,  he 
cried — 

"  What  serpent  is  this,  that  you  have  brought  to  sting  me  with  its 
deadly  fangs  ?"  And  rushing  to  a  settee  that  was  placed  against  the 
wall,  he  tore  off  one  of  the  legs,  and  raising  it  high  above  his  head, 
ran  towards  him. 

Mrs.  Fay  screame*d,  and  endeavored  to  protect  the  boy. 

He  stood  for  a  moment  with  uplifted  hand  ;  his  eyes  became  glazed 
— his  countenance  rigid,  and  fell  back  upon  the  floor  a  corpse,  a  victim 
to  revenge  and  the  rum-seller. 

Mary  Fay  stood  for  a  moment,  gazing  upon  his  lifeless  form,  when, 
with  a  loud  shriek,  she  threw  herself  upon  the  body  of  him  she  had. 
loved  so  truly,  even  in  his  degradation.  Patiently  had  she  borne  her 
misery.  She  had  lived  for  him  alone,  and  there  she  lay  a  stiffened 
corpse,  having  died  a  broken-hearted  woman.  But,  why  is  not  Frank 
Seten  there,  gloating  with  fiendish  pleasure  upon  the  success  of  his 
hellish  revenge  ?  He  can  no  more  injure  them.  They  are  beyond  his 
reach.  They  have  gone  before  Him,  who  will,  ere  long,  call  the  vil- 
lain, likewise,  to  render  up  an  account  of  deeds  done  in  the  flesh. 

When  the  officials  of  the  prison  entered  the  cell,  they  observed 
Tommy,  kneeling  by  the  dead  bodies  of  his  parents,  sobbing  bitterly. 
He  was  taken  from  the  cell,  and,  at  his  own  request,  allowed  to  go 
home. 

Crazy  Tom  was  cleared  of  the  charge  of  murder,  by  a  verdict  of 
insanity,  and  was  sent  to  the  Lunatic  Asylum.  Honest  Will  attended 
to  the  funeral  of  the  child.  And  old  Jenny,  who  had  received  orders 
from  the  agent,  to  remain  in  the  house,  managed — by  her  own  earnings 
and  the  money  obtained  by  little  Tommy — to  keep  soul  and  body 
together.  But  she  gradually  sank,  becoming  weak  and  enfeebled 
through  old  age  and  sorrow.  Herself  and  Tommy  would,  occasion- 
ally, by  the  help  of  their  old  friend,  manage  to  spare  money  enough  to 
defray  their  expenses  to  \isit  the  old  woman's  son,  who,  after  having 
been  confined  for  some  time,  and  showing  no  disposition  to  be  refrac- 
tory, was  allowed  to  run  at  large,  from  ward  to  ward  ;  but,  at  each 
visit  of  his  mother,  he  cried  piteously  to  be  allowed  to  return  to  the 
City,  with  her. 

Towards  the  latter  part  of  November  last,  Jenny,  whose  health  hav- 
ing rapidly  failed,  lay  upon  her  bed.     Tommy  knelt  beside  her,  crying. 

"  Don't  cry,  my  dear  boy,"  said  she  ;  "I  am  old,  and  have  lived  a 
long  time.     When  I  am  gone  don't  neglect  your  Bible.     It  has  been 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  105 

my  only  comfort  and  consolation.  It  was  your  mother's  too,  and  let 
it  also  be  yours.  It  is  the  only  sure  road  to  happiness.  When  every- 
thing else  fails,  that  will  stick  to  you  with  its  cheering  light.  When 
your  mother's  old  friend,  Mr.  Sykes,  comes  home,  go  to  him — tell  him 
that  I  am  no  more.  He,  for  the  sake  of  the  love  he  bore  your  parents, 
will  protect  you." 

Our  little  hero  sobbed  and  cried,  "  Oh,  I  shall  be  so  lonesome  when 
you  are  gone." 

After  thus  giving  advice  to  that  poor  lonely  orphan,  she  fell  into  a 
gentle  slumber,  from  which  she  never  awoke,  thus  ending  a  life  advanced 
to  a  good  old  age,  in  the  service  of  a  family  to  whom  she  had  devoted 
herself,  to  repay  one  charitable  act,  rendered  her  in  early  life. 

Tommy,  who  had  been  seated  *by  the  bed,  upon  perceiving  that  his 
old  friend  had  ceased  breathing,  informed  the  people  in  the  next  room, 
they  gave  notice  to  the  authorities  who  had  her  buried.  Upon  their 
taking  away  the  coffin  from  the  house,  Tommy  was  observed  by  one  of 
the  officers  sobbing  in  the  corner,  and  was  asked  by  him  what  he 
intended  to  do. 

He  replied,  "  He  did  not  know." 

"  Had  you  not  better  come  with  us,  we  will  have  you  put  on  Ran- 
dall's Island,  where  you  will  be  taken  care  of." 

Our  hero  dried  his  eyes  with  the  sleeve  of  his  ragged  jacket,  and 
looking  proudly  up  into  the  officer's  face,  he  said,  "  My  mother  has 
told  me  that  my  grandfather  nobly  fought  iu  defence  of  that  Indepen- 
dence which  our  country  now  enjoys.  I  am  an  American  boy,  and 
likewise  have  a  feeling  of  independence  which  I  would  enjoy.  Should 
I  go  to  Randall's  Island,  I  would  be  placed  under  restriction.  I  am 
able  to  procure  a  living  for  myself.  Our  charitable  institutions  are 
already  filled  to  overflowing." 

"You  are  a  noble  boy,''  said  the  officer,  '•  and  should  you  find  any 
difficulty  in  getting  along,  you  can  then  go  to  where  I  mentioned." 

Leaving  Tommy,  as  he  concluded,  he  departed  up  the  street  to  over- 
take the  cart,  in  which  were  the  remains  of  old  Jenny  on  their  way 
to  Potter's  Field. 

Our  hero  now  being  alone,  he  sat  down  and  cried  bitterly  for  some 
time,  at  length,  he  began  to  consider  which  was  his  best  course  to  pur- 
sue. Honest  Will  had  gone  with  his  family  to  Philadelphia  to  see  a 
distant  relative  of  his  wife's,  some  two  weeks  previous  to  the  demise 
of  old  Jenny.  Tommy  knew  that  he  would  be  received  with  a  hearty 
welcome  into  his  family  were  he  home.  But  something  was  to  be 
done,  and  that  quickly,  for  he  could  not  endure  the  thought  of  remain- 
ing alone  in  that  room.  He  sold  the  few  remaining  articles  of  furni- 
ture to  the  woman  who  lived  in  the  next  room,  for  a  few  shillings  and 
sallied  out  to  look  for  a  boarding-place. 

After  traversing  the  streets  for  a  long  time,  stopping  at  the  door  of 
several  houses  where  boarders  were  taken,  but  who  upon  looking  at 
his  wretched  appearance,  in  answer  to  his  inquiry,  with  a  shrug  of  the 
shoulders  cried,  "  No,"  at  length  he  came  to  a  basement,  where  he 
saw  upon  a  piece  of  board  hanging  over  the  door,  the  word  lodgings, 
written  with  chalk.     • 


106  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

It  was  a  horrid  looking  place.  The  landlady,  Mrs.  Brown,  observed 
Tommy  looking  through  the  upper  part  of  the  door  which  was  of  glass, 
she  beckoned  to  him.  Upon  his  entrance  she  asked  him  what  he 
wanted. 

He  informed  her  that  he  was  in  search  of  a  boarding-place,  and 
seeing  a  sign  above  the  door,  signifying  that  lodgings  could  be  obtained 
there,  that  he  was  on  the  poiut  of  entering,  when  she  called  him. 

"Yes/'  she  replied,  "I  keep  a  lodging  house,  but  if  you  want  to 
board  I  suppose  I  can  accommodate  you." 

11  How  much  do  you  charge  a  week,  ma'am  ?  "  asked  our  hero. 

"  Well,"  replied  she,  looking  at  him  sharply,  "  I  suppose  I  can  let 
you  come  for  ten  shilliugs,  but  have  you  no  parents." 

"No,  ma'am,"  replied  Tommy,  with  a  quivering  lip. 

"  What  do  you  do  for  a  living  ?" 

"  I  sell  chips,"  replied  Mrs.  Brown. 

"  Yery  well,"  and  she  turned  to  attend  to  her  duties. 

Tommy  now  had  time  to  look  around  him,  and  he  shuddered  as  the 
different  objects  of  misery  met  his  eye.  There  were  men  and  women 
of  all  colors,  seated  around  the  room.  In  the  corner  there  lay  a 
wretched  object  beastly  intoxicated,  with  his  face  covered  with  blood, 
cursing  some  one  who  had  injured  him. 

Mrs.  Brown  ran  at  him  and  kicked  him  in  the  face,  crying,  "  Hush 
your  drunken  jaw,  you  old  fool  and  go  to  sleep." 

A  dirty  looking  woman,  seated  upon  a  broken  chair,  beckoned  to 
Tommy,  who  crossed  over  to  her,  when  she  accosted  him  in  the  follow- 
ing language,  "  Me  darlint,  if  ye'll  jist  be  afther  goiiv  over  to  the 
corner,  and  bring  me  a  gill  of  gin,  I'll  give  you  a  penny  for  yourself." 
At  the  same  time  offering  money  and  a  bottle  to  him. 

Tommy  excused  himself  by  saying  that  he  had  not  time,  upon  which 
he  left  the  cellar,  and  returned  to  his  former  abode  to  get  his  basket, 
that  he  might  be  in  readiuess  to  commence  his  work  the  next 
morning. 

He  was  surprised  in  the  evening,  to  see  those  in  the  house  send  out 
for  their  meals,  some  getting  bread  and  butter,  according  to  their  taste 
or  means.  v\While  others,  who  not  having  money,  were  forced  to  go 
supperless,  gazed  with  hungry  faces  as  the  fortunate  ones  devoured 
their  meals. 

Mrs.  Brown  gave  Tommy  a  slight  supper,  and  told  him  he  might  go 
to  bed  as  soon  as  he  liked. 

Upon  receiving  this  information,  our  hero,  in  a  gentle  voice,  asked 
where  his  bed  could  be  found. 

She  laughingly  replied,  "  Any  where  you  like.  Pick  out  the  softest 
plank  you  can  find." 

Tommy  retired  into  a  corner,  and  seated  himself  apart  from  the  rest, 
to  brood  over  his  lonely  situation  ;  but  as  night  drew  on,  the  scenes 
enacted  before  him  became  disgusting  to  him,  and  he  arose  and  left  the 
cellar.  He  took  his  way  down  to  the  dock,  where  he  seated  himself, 
looking  into  the  water,  where  he  remained  until  a  late  hour. 

Upon  returning  to  his  boarding-house,  he  enured,  but  what  a  sight 
met  his  view  !  men  and  women,  who  had  become  insensible,  from  the 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  10? 

effects  of  ardent  spirits,  strewed  promiscuously  about  the  floor,  with  no 
regard  to  decency.  Tommy  picked  his  way  among  them,  aud  reached 
the  remotest  corner,  where,  lying  down,. after  a  long  time  he  managed  to 
sink  into  a  slumber,  forgetting  for  awhile  his  misery.  He  was  aroused 
early  by  Mrs.  Brown,  who,  giving  him  his  breakfast,  sent  him  off  to 
begin  his  day's  work. 

One  day,  in  his  rounds,  not  being  very  fortunate  in  disposing  of  his 
load  of  chips,  he  had  wandered  farther  than  usual.  The  weather  was 
very  cold,  and  his  bare  feet,  which  were  greatly  chapped,  were  bleeding 
profusely.  When  in  the  vicinity  of  Tompkins  square,  as  he  was  passing 
a  very  large. house,  crying  "  Here's  your  pitch-pine  chips,"  he  observed 
a  young  girl  standing  in  the  door.  He  humbly  asked  her  if  she  wanted 
any  chips.  As  she  gently  answered  "Xo,"  their  eyen  met,  and  they 
stood  gazing  at  each  other  for  some  time. 

The  girl  called  him  up  upon  the  stoop,  and  asked  him  if  he  had  no 
shoes.  Upon  being  answered  in  the  negative,  she  beckoned  him  to 
follow  her. 

She  conducted  him  into  the  kitchen,  and  bid  him  be  seated,  and  warm 
his  feet. 

Doing  as  she  desired,  Tommy  was  soon  comfortably  seated,  awaiting 
the  return  of  Rosa,  for  it  was  she  who  had  gone  up  stairs,  and  soon 
returned  with  a  pair  of  William  Seten's  shoes,  which  she  bid  Tommy 
put' on,  first  giving  a  pair  of  warm  stockings  to  him.  She  next  went  to 
the  larder,  and  returned  with  some  food,  which  she  gave  him. 

While  Tommy  sat  eating,  she  seated  herself  opposite  to  him,  gazing 
upon  his  face,  seemingly  much  interested  in  scanning  his  countenance. 

Having  satisfied  his  hunger,  Tommy  gratefully  looked  up  into  her 
eyes. 

Rosa  asked  him  if  he  had  no  father  nor  mother. 

He  shook  his  head  in  answer. 

"Then  you  are  an  orphan,  like  myself;  but  you  have  had  the  hap- 
piness of  having  seen  your  parents.  You  can  remember  their  kind 
looks.  I  have  not  that  pleasure.  I  have  never  known  mine  f  and 
she  wiped  away  a  tear.     "  How  long  have  they  been  dead  V 

11  About  one  year,"  cried  Tommy,  as  the  tears  ran  down  his  cheeks. 

Tommy  here  related  to  Rosa  the  horrible  death  of  his  parents  in  the 
prison.  Rosa  remembered  having  been  informed  by  William  Seteu  of 
the  death  of  the  poor  drunkard  who  had  saved  the  lives  of  his  grand- 
father and  herself,  and  likewise  of  the  death  of  the  poor  woman,  for 
whom  she  had,  upon  her  knees,  obtained  permission  from  Frank  Seteu 
to  remain  a  tenant  in  her  miserable  abode. 

Upon  Tommy's  concluding  his  tale  of  sorrow,  she  exclaimed,  "  I  have 
seen  both  your  father  and  mother  ;"  and  Rosa  related  to  him  the 
occurrences  of  that  eventful  night,  and  she  spoke  of  the  pity  she  felt 
while  gazing  upon  the  pale  face  of  his  mother. 

Tommy  remarked,  that  he  was  in  the  habit  of  passing  his  evenings 
seated  upon  the  dock  at  the  foot  of  Third  street,  gazing  into  the  water, 
where  sometimes  he  fancied  that  he  could  discover  the  face  of  his 
angelic  mother  in  the  clear  blue  waters. 


108  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 

Thus  those  two  orphans  conversed,  until  Tommy  arose  to  go,  when 
Rosa  paid  him  for  his  chips.  As  she  did  so,  she  said  that  she  did  not 
want  them,  but  that  she  had  detained  him  from  selling  them. 

Tommy  refused  to  take  the  money,  without  she  took  the  chips  ; 
when,  seeing  him  determined,  she  bid  him  throw  them  into  the  wood- 
house.  As  he  was  about  to  leave,  she  asked  him  to  come  again  the 
next  day.     After  promising  that  he  would,  he  left  the  house. 

It  was  upon  the  following  morning,  about  one,  that  the  occur- 
rence happened  to  our  little  hero  which  we  have  related  in  the  first 
chapter,  and  which  led  to  his  being  taken  care  of  by  those  benevolent 
men.  As  near  as  we  can  recollect,  it  was  on  the  Saturday  following 
the  meeting  of  Rosa  and  Tommy,  that  Crazy  Tom,  who  had  become 
uneasy  at  not  seeing  his  mother  and  our  little  hero,  by  some  means 
affected  his  escape  from  the  Asylum,  and  travelled  on  foot  to  the 
city. 

Rosa  looked  anxiously  for  little  Tommy  on  the  next  day.  She  felt 
a  great  interest  in  his  welfare,  for  which  she  could  not  account.  She 
had  mentioned  his  lonely  situation  to  old  Mr.  Seten,  and  had  obtained 
permission  from  him  to  engage  him  as  an  errand-boy.  But  each  suc- 
ceeding day  passed,  without  his  appearance.  He  had  called  at  the 
door,  in  his  lonely  walk,  and  inquired  for  her,  but  the  servant  who 
came  to  the  door,  seeing  his  dirty,  ragged  appearance,  had  driven  him 
from  the  house. 

On  the  before-mentioned  day,  she  had  become  determined  to  seek  for 
him.  Remembering  that  he  had  informed  her  that  in  the  eveniugs  he 
usually  sat  until  a  late  hour  upon  the  wharf,  gazing  into  the  water, 
she  that  evening  requested  William  to  accompany  her,  who  readily 
assented,  and  they  took  their  way  for  the  dock,  about  nine  o'clock. 

Upon  their  arrival,  they  looked  in  vain  for  Tommy.  As  she  stood 
looking  into  the  river,  she  too  fancied  that  she  could  see  the  pale  face 
of  a  female  looking  up  at  her.  The  tide  was  running  very  strong, 
which  caused  Rosa  to  feel  a  dizziness,  who,  in  her  anxiety  to  see  the 
face  plainer,  had  reached  far  over  the  dock,  when  losing  her  balance, 
she,  with  a  loud  scream,  fell  headlong  into  the  river, 

William  immediately  plunged  after  her.  Having  caught  hold  of  her, 
he  clung  to  the  wharf,  and  loudly  called  for  help. 

Our  young  hero,  who  was  comfortably  seated  by  the  stove  conversing 
with  honest  Will,  upon  hearing  the. scream  of  a  female,  started  up  and 
darted  from  the  house,  followed  by  old  Will.  The  cries  of  William 
acted  as  a  guide,  ne  soon  reached  the  wharf,  when  he  saw  at  a  glance 
the  position  of  those  iu  the  water.  On  looking  around,  lie  observed 
the  end  of  a  rope  which  was  fastened  to  one  of  the  spiles ;  he  seized  it 
and  plunged  head  foremost  into  the  water  ;  but,  unfortunately,  his  head 
came  in  contact  with  a  log  that  was  floating  on  the  tide,  upon  which 
he  fractured  his  skull ;  but,  before  he  became  unconscious,  he  had 
reached  William,  who  had  observed  his  head  strike  the  log.  He 
grasped  the  rope  from  the  hand  of  Tommy,  and  quickly  bound  it  around 
him  and  Rosa,  and  looking  upon  the  dock,  he  observed  a  man  and 
vvoman,  to  wrhom  he  cried  out  to  draw  them  up.     Acting  as  they  were 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK.  109 

ordered,  by  their  united  efforts  they  managed  to  pull  Rosa  and  our 
hero  up,  aud  landed  them  safely  upon  the  dock. 

William  soon  clambered  up,  and  upon  examining  the  injured  boy 
they  found  that  he  was  bleeding  profusely.  Honest  Will  placed  him 
upon  his  shoulders,  and  was  about  to  take  him  to  his  own  home,  when 
Rosa  begged  him  to  carry  Tommy  to  the  residence  wherein  she  dwelt, 
that  she  might  be  enabled  to  attend  to  him  herself.  Her  request  being- 
seconded  by  William,  honest  Will  after  some  hesitation  agreed,  and 
being  directed  by  them,  he  took  his  way  for  Tompkins  Square,  followed 
by  Mrs.  Brown,  for  it  was  her  who  had  been  attracted  to  the  spot  by 
the  cries  of  those  in  the  water. 

Upon  their  arrival,  honest  Will  was  ordered  to  lay  his  burthen,  upon 
a  sofa.  Rosa  kneeled  down  by  him  and  took  his  hand.  The  door 
being  left  open,  our  old  friend,  Crazy  Tom,  who  had  been  wandering 
in  vain  to  find  his  friends,  and  was  passing  took  a  notion  to  enter. 
The  first  person  that  met  his  view  upon  his  entering  the  room  of  Rosa 
was  old  Seten,  when  he  gave  that  peculiar  yell  with  which  he  had  so 
often  startled  the  old  man. 

Seten  staggered  back  exclaiming,  "That  voice  again." 

The  eyes  of  Crazy  Tom  next  fell  upon  the  kneeling  girl,  whose  dress 
was  displaced  from  her  neck,  showing  the  impression  of  a  strawberry 
upon  her  left  shoulder.  Tom  with  a  bound  sprang  to  her  side  crying, 
"  My  strawberry  !    I've 'found  my  strawberry."' 

"  Merciful  Heaven!  'tis  the  lost  child  of  Edward  Fay,"  cried  honest 
Will,  "  I  know  her  by  that  mark.  Tom  is  right,  I  too  have  noticed  it 
before  in  her  infancy." 

''•  Then  Heaven  be  praised  !"  exclaimed  old  Seten.  "  I  have  lived 
long  enougli  to  do  one  act  -of  reparation,  that  of  restoring  to  the  heir 
of  old  Mr.  Graham,  the  fortune  that  has  been  detained  from  its  right- 
ful owners  too  long." 

Old  Will  now  informed  Rosa,  or  Charlotte,  as  we  will  how  call  her, 
that  the  poor  bleeding  boy  before  her  was  her  brother. 

As  she  hung  sobbing  over  him,  she  exclaimed  : 

"Then  I  too  have  seen  my  parents  amid  the  crackliwg  flames  of  the 
destroying  fire.  I  clung  to  the  neck  of  my  poor  father,  unknowing  and 
unknown,  when  he  was  sent  by  a  merciful  Providence  to  save  me 
from  destruction  ;  and  my  mother,  my  poor  mother  I" 

A.8  the  remembrance  of  that  night  came  upon  her  she  sobbed  as  if 
her  heart  would  break. 

Tommy  with  an  effort,  took  her  by  the  haud,  and  in  a  low  voice 
said  : 

"  Sister,  dear  sister,  weep  not  for  her,  she  is  even  now  rejoicing  in 
that  far  off  mansion  of  the  blest,  at  this  the  meeting  of  her  orphan 
children  upon  earth.  Charlotte  weep  not  for  me,  I  am  happy,  believe 
me.  although  our  parting  comes  so  soon  after  having  become  aware  of 
each  other's  existance  ;  'twill  be  but  for  a  short  space  of  time  when  we 
will  be  reunited  in  Heaven,  free  from  the  cares  and  troubles  of  this 
earth.  Believe  me,  dear  sister,  'tis  happiness  to  die  conscious  of  having 
thy  haud  to  smoothe  my  pillow.'' 


110  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DKY  DOCK. 

At  this  moment  they  were  all  startled  by  a  female  voice,  exclaiming, 
"  Charles  Grafton,  there  is  another  one  to  whom  you  owe  reparation." 

The  eyes  of  all  present  turned  upon  Mrs.  Brown,  who  was  standing 
in  the  buck-ground,  with  a  pistol  presented  at  the  head  of  George 
Seteu. 

'•Receive  the  reward  due  to  you  from  one  you  have  so  grossly 
injured/'  she  exclaimed. 

As  she  was  in  the  act  of  hiring,  Charlotte  sprang  towards  her,  and 
with  a  blow  she  knocked  the  pistol  from  her  hand  :  it  fell  upon  the 
floor  without  injury  to  any  person. 

Charlotte  cried,  "  Woman,  would  you  be  a  murderess  ¥■ 

"  I  would  have  revenge/'  cried  Mrs.  Brown. 

"Revenge  belongs  to  the  Most  High."  cried  Charlotte.  "Turn 
your  thoughts  upon  Him." 

"  Girl,  1  was  once  as  young  and  fair  as  thou  art.  I  knew  no  harm  ; 
but  I  was  ruined  by  that  villain,  have  I  not  cause  to  seek  revenge  ?" 

At  this  moment  the  door  opened,  and  Frank  Seten  and  Eveleen 
entered,  having  rushed  from  their  room  at  the  noise  of  the  pistol.  Mrs. 
Brown  turned,  and  observed  him,  when  she  cried,  "  Ha,  George 
Hastings.     See,  there  stands  my  enemy." 

"  Impossible  !"  cried  Frank,  "'tis  my  father." 

"Your  father!''  cried  she,  turning  to  the  old  man,  "is  that  boy 
your  son  ?" 

"  He  is,  Louisa  Smith,  and  your  son  likewise." 

"  How  is  this  ?  I  am  bewildered.  Is  not  your  name  Mrs.  Lisle?" 
asked  Frank. 

"It  is,"  cried  she.  "I  am  Louisa  Smith,  Mrs.  Lisle  and  Mrs. 
Brown.  I  have  changed  names  at  various  stages  of  my  life,  to  obtain 
the  one  great  end  for  which  I  have  lived — Revenge!  Is  that  woman 
your  wi»  ?"  continued  she,  to  Frank  Seten,  who  nodded  in  the 
affirmative. 

"  Ha!  ha  !  ha  !"  and  she  turned  to  old  Seten.  "  Behold  the  effects 
of  your  villainy  !  your  son  married  to  your  daughter.  Why,  Eveleen, 
my  darling,  how  do  you  do?"  and  as  the  bloated  hag  approached  her, 
Eveleen  turned  from  her  in  disgust. 

Frank  Seten  approached  his  father  saving,  "Does  this  woman  speak 
the  truth?" 

"  She  does.     She  is  your  mother." 

Frank  cried,  "And  I  have  wed  my  own  sister?  Horrid,  horrid!" 
and  he  rushed  froiu  the  house. 

"  Louisa,  we  are  both  now  old.  L  am  willing  to  make  reparation, 
as  far  as  1  am  able,"  said  old  Seten. 

"  Can  you  bring  back  my  innocence  ?  Can  you  bring  back  my  poor 
silly  mother'/  din  you  bring  back  my  peace  of  mind?  Bring  these 
back,  and  then  talk  of  reparation,"  cried  Louisa. 

William  now  observed,  looking  at  Charlotte — 

"  Dear  Charlotte,  you  will  now  despise  me.  I  having  this  stain  upon 
my  birth." 

"  Never  I"  answered  the  noble  girl;  and  placing  her  hand  in  his,  con- 


THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRV  DOCK.  Ill 

tinued,  "  you  loved  the  poor  orphan,  and  were  her  friend.  She  does  not 
forget  it."  ^ 

li  For  the  sake  of  those  wo  children,  I  will  unfold  that,  which  other- 
wise would  have  been  buried  with  me  in  the  grave.  Eveleen  Gray  is 
not  my  daughter.  She  is  the  child  of  a  frail  sister  of  misfortune  who 
was  kind  to  me,  and  gave  me  a  shelter  when  I  was  homeless,  upon  her 
death,  I  adopted  her  child." 

"  Thank  heaven  !"  cried  old  Seten.     "  That  sin  is  off  my  soul." 

At  this  moment  the  doctor  arrived,  who  had  been  sent  for.  Upon 
examining  Tommy's  wound,  he  pronounced  his  case  hopeless. 

Our  hero  at  this  moment,  opened  his  eyes,  and  they  met  those  of 
Charlotte,  who  cried,  "My  dear  brother." 

Tommy  smiled,  and  placed  his  hand  in  hers,  then  looking  up,  he 
murmured — 

■■  What  a  glorious  sight." 

u  What  see  you,  Tommy  ?"  anxiously  asked  Honest  Will,  hanging 
over  him. 

"  My  dream,  my  dream,  with  one  exception,"  said  Tommy. 

"  What  is  that,"  asked  Will. 

"  My  poor  deluded  father  saved*  and  his  destroyer  punished." 

He  said  no  more,  his  eyes  became  fixed.     He  was  a  corpse. 


112  THE  CHIP  BOY  OF  THE  DRY  DOCK. 


CONCLUSION. 

I  have  but  very  little  more  to  say,  dear  reader.  Old  Seten  married 
Louisa  Smith,  as  au  act  of  justice,  and  she  is  now,  through  the  united 
influence  of  William  and  Charlotte,  become  a  convert  to  the  true  faith, 
and  lives  contentedly  with  the  old  man.  William  discovered  in  honest 
Will,  the  charitable  old  man  whom  he  had  witnessed  relieving  the  dis- 
tressed family  of  Edward  Fay.  .Charlotte  aud  himself  as  a  reward 
placed  his  family  in  comfortable  circumstances.  It  is  a  pleasant  sight 
to  see  the  trio  as  they  traverse  the  streets  at  night,  seeking  aud  reliev- 
ing misery,  and  inducing  the  drunkard  to  reform. 

Frank  Seten  has  never  been  heard  of.  It  is  supposed  that  horror- 
struck,  at  the  thought  of  marrying  his  own  sister,  he  took  passage 
for  California,  in  the  San  Francisco,  and  was  among  the  number  lost 
in  that  ill-fated  ship.  Eveleen  grieves  for  his  loss,  but  is  becoming 
somewhat  reconciled.  William  and  Charlotte  intend  to  be  married  as 
soon  as  they  arrive  at  a  proper  age.  Crazy  Tom  was  taken  back  to 
the  asylum  much  against  his  will,  where  his  fretfulness  has  caused  him 
to  be  confiued  to  his  own  ward  ;  but  it  is  the  intention  of  Charlotte  to 
try  to  gain  his  release,  believing  that  he  will  be  quite  harmless  when 
with  her. 

Harry  Courtland,  the  murderer  of  Mr.  Jennings,  the  ruined  mer- 
chant, who  affected  his  escape  on  that  eventful  night,  is  supposed  to 
have  become  one  of  those  Southern  adventurers,  under  an  assumed 
name,  as  no  trace  of  him  has  become  known  to  the  authorities-. 

And  now,  dear  reader,  having  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  traced  out 
the  line  of  true  charity,  and  pointed  to  that  which  is  false,  and  having 
related  the  short-lived  career  of  "The  Chip  Boy  of  the  Dry  Dock," 
I  will,  with  the  best  of  wishes  for  your  prosperity,  take  my  leave. 


THE    END. 


\ 


